


There And Back

by Amaradex



Category: Glee, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Genre-Typical Violence, Out With A Bang Big Bang, minor character death (canon compliant)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 12:50:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 58,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4305768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amaradex/pseuds/Amaradex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt is a proper hobbit who enjoys his home, his meals, and his quiet life. A life that gets turned upside down when the wizard William comes to recruit him for the Company of Rachel Berry, a dwarven princess looking to reclaim her homeland. Kurt knows that proper hobbits don’t go on adventures, but he can’t help but wonder what might happen on this one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my fantastic artists, missmardybum (digital art) and scarletjedi (fanmix). Without their awesome additions, this story would be much less than it is today.
> 
> This is based on both the movie and book versions of the hobbit, with some aspects of the storyline altered because I just can't see things going the way they did with the Glee characters involved.

 

Chapter One

 

In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit.  His hole was much the sort that hobbits liked, warm and cozy and well-built.  Despite this, Kurt Hummel was not entirely the typical sort of hobbit.  His mother, Elizabeth, had been the adventuring sort, and had passed some of that attitude down to her son, despite the fact that it had cut her life short.  His father Burt had been a quite proper hobbit, but he had not been able to stand the loss of his wife, and had followed her before Kurt had become an adult.  After his father’s death, Kurt had significantly curtailed his wanderings, focusing himself on being the kind of hobbit his father had been.  Still, he could not rid himself of his love for the songs of all other beings, and while he no longer wandered the forest in hopes of finding elves, he was still one of the first at the Green Dragon whenever there were rumours of foreigners in town.

 

Such foreigners were usually just hobbits from the farthest reaches of Eastfarthing or Southfarthing, which meant that Kurt was more than a little surprised to look up from his book one day to find a tall man peering down at him curiously.  The man was dressed all in grey, from the top of his hat to his shoes, and while his neat vest and pants were quite the norm amongst hobbits, the ground-length coat-cloak he wore over it all was not.

 

“Good morning,” Kurt said, determined to be polite despite the oddness of the stranger.  His greeting earned him an even more intense scrutiny.

 

“Do you mean to wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I wish it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning on which to be good?” the man finally asked after several long moments of staring.  Kurt blinked at him, confused, then shrugged good naturedly.

 

“All of them at once, I suppose,” he said.  He waited another long moment, flicking mindlessly through the pages of his book, then looked up at the man curiously.

 

“Can I help you with something, Mr. - “ he hesitated for a long moment.  “You know, I don’t believe I know your name.”  The man chuckled deeply, his eyes twinkling in mirth.

 

“You do know my name, Kurt Hummel, though you might not remember that I belong to it.  I am William, and William means me.”  The twinkle in his eyes grew brighter when Kurt sat up in shock and surprise, his mouth gaping.

 

“Not William the wandering wizard?  The one who made such particularly excellent fireworks.  I remember that the Old Took used to have them on Midsummer’s Eve, and they would go up like lilies and snapdragons - and proper dragons too!  I had no idea you were still in business”  Kurt’s excitement overcame his wariness and he stood up from the bench, approaching the fence separating his garden from the small path that meandered past his home.

 

“Where else should I be?” William responded, his voice slightly irritable.  “Regardless, I am glad to find you remember something about me, even if it is only my fireworks.  It seems that perhaps there is hope.  You will do, I suppose.”

 

“Beg pardon, but I will do for what, exactly?” Kurt asked curiously, fairly certain that he hadn’t been asked to do anything by the wizard.

 

“Why, I am looking for someone to come on an adventure with me.  It has been very difficult to find anyone, you know.  But you will do for it.  It will be very amusing for me, and very good for you - and very profitable too, if you make it through.”

 

“We don’t want any adventures here,” Kurt finally managed to snap, once he had forced his mouth shut.  “You might try over The Hill or across The Water in Bree.  They’re the sort that appreciate adventures.  Good morning!”  He scurried into his hobbit-hole with that, shutting the door behind himself and leaning against it, breathing heavily.  He didn’t want to admit that his breathing was more a matter of excitement at the idea of an adventure than from his quick run, but it was certainly true.

 

He could hear and feel an odd scratching on his door, so he quickly scurried to one of the side windows, peering out in time to see William pass through his front gate and head on down the path.  Kurt waited several moments before hurrying to open his door, only to stare down at it in confusion.  It was completely unmarked, with no sign of the scratching he had felt.  He even went so far to run his fingers across the front of the door, but couldn’t find any unexpected imperfections.  Finally, he gave up, deciding that William must have been playing some kind of prank on him and headed to his kitchen to prepare himself a mid-morning snack.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Kurt had forgotten the majority of his conversation with William by the next morning, only left with a vague impression that the wizard had wanted him to do something foolish, something that he would never consider, being a proper hobbit gentleman.  He couldn’t remember what it was, but he rather supposed that it couldn’t have been particularly important if that was the case.  He went about his day as per usual, and if he felt himself anticipating something nameless, he dismissed it as the result of having spoken to someone so far outside his usual encounters.

 

In fact, he suppressed the feeling so much that he was rather startled when there was a loud banging on his door, nearly jumping into the air at the sound.  He harrumphed to himself in displeasure as he looked down at the dinner he’d just fixed, then sighed and pushed away from his kitchen table, going to see who would be rude enough to disturb a hobbit in the midst of dinner.

 

Whatever he had been expecting, it certainly wasn’t a burly dwarf with a shaved head and a bushy black beard.  He (she?) bowed curtly while Kurt stared blankly and twisted his (her?) mouth in irritation when Kurt didn’t return the gesture.

 

“Tina, at your service,” the dwarf said.  Kurt blinked twice, then found his manners, finally returning the bow.  “Kurt Hummel, at yours,” he managed to croak out, stepping back to let the dwarf into his home.  He was rewarded with an armful of cloak and two axes and a warhammer, all of which he had to juggle in order to get his door closed behind himself.  He then had to juggle everything again to get the cloak on his coat rack and the weapons safely stowed away from the door and leaning against the wall.  By the time everything was put away neatly, the dwarf had disappeared from his front parlour, so he had to search, only to find her (definitely a her, now that she wasn’t wearing a bulky cloak) sitting in his kitchen, devouring the last remnants of his meal.

 

“Excuse me,” he said, trying not to let his frustration show.  It wasn’t done to be rude to a guest, even an entirely unexpected one who was themselves being rude.  “I don’t believe we’ve met before, have we?”  Tina grunted and shook her head, not even bothering to stop eating long enough to speak.

 

“It’s not that you’re not very welcome here,” Kurt said, trying to catch her full attention.  “And it’s not that I don’t like guests.  I like them as much as the next hobbit.  It’s just that - well, I like to know my guests before they come for a visit, and I like to know that they’re coming before they arrive.”  Tina’s eyes snapped up at that, and she appeared very puzzled.

 

“He told us you’d be expecting us, and that there would be plenty of food for us.  Speaking of which, is there anymore?”  She tossed the carcass of the fish in the fire without even looking at where it was meant to go and looked around the kitchen hopefully.  Kurt placed a basket of freshly baked buns in front of her, making sure to grab one for himself.  He was about to ask exactly who “he” was when there was another loud knocking.  He looked despairingly at the hallway leading to the front door, unsure of whether opening it would just invite more madness into his life.

 

“That’ll be the door,” Tina prompted, not looking up from her plate.  Kurt took the hint and headed towards the front of his home, though he sighed and dragged his feet slightly as he did so.  This time, he was completely unsurprised to see a dwarf, one with a beard quite like Tina’s and a mane of hair to match.  He could guess that this one was female before she even removed her cloak, a suspicion confirmed once she had introduced herself as “Mercedes, at your service,” and stepped in, handing him her cloak along with a long sword.  He was more prepared to receive them this time, and quickly settled them into place alongside Tina’s things.

 

He followed Mercedes into the front parlour, only to discover that Tina had emerged from the kitchen.  The two of them greeted each other as “sister”, and Kurt was idly wondering if they were truly related or if it was a standard greeting amongst dwarves when the two of them crashed their heads together.  Kurt clapped a hand over his mouth to keep in his cry and felt grateful for it a moment later when both dwarves seemed entirely fine.  He was about to ask them what in the world they were about, doing such a thing, when there was yet another knocking on his front door.  He grumbled under his breath about the impoliteness of dwarves as he went to answer it, though he cut himself off before he actually pulled the door open.  The two dwarves that bowed to him seemed much younger than either Tina or Mercedes, with very short beards and hair no longer than their shoulders.

 

“Sam,” the blond dwarf said, and “Rory”, the one with reddish-brown hair echoed.  “At your service,” they chimed together.  Kurt found himself charmed despite his frustrations, so he offered them a far more welcoming bow than he had the two others.

 

“Kurt Hummel, at yours,” he said, stepping back to let them in.

 

“Are we late?” Sam asked, stepping in without hesitation.  “Are the others here already?”  Before Kurt could answer, a loud voice called out from the back, summoning the two dwarves by name.

 

“Careful with these,” Sam cautioned as he offloaded his cloak and an unnatural number of knives and swords into Kurt’s arms.  “We just had them sharpened.”  Kurt tried to protest, but was distracted by Rory, who appeared to be scraping his boots on his mother’s glory box.

 

“Can you please not do that?” Kurt asked plaintively, juggling the pile in his arms so that he could extract one cloak to hang up.  Rory seemed prepared to ignore him, but at that point Tina came around the corner and beckoned imperiously at the two new dwarves.

 

“Come give us a hand,” she commanded, her tone not allowing for argument.  “We need to move things about, otherwise we’ll never get everyone in.”  Kurt was in the process of hanging the second cloak up and nearly fumbled his armful of - very sharp! - weaponry at those words.

 

“Everyone?” he croaked.  “How many more of you are there?”  Before any of the dwarves could answer - not that they were likely to, seeing as they were wandering away - there came another knock at the door.  Kurt was torn for a moment between following the four dwarves already in his house or letting (presumably) more in, but a second, more impatient, knock at the door had him carefully dropping Sam and Rory’s weapons on his mother’s glory box and heading back to open the door.

 

The pile of dwarves that suddenly began to spread across his floor was quite the surprise to Kurt, but he was quick to dodge out of the way, standing back and watching with wide eyes as eight sets of legs and arms began to untangle themselves, accompanied by much yelling and swearing.  Behind them, William poked his head in the door, though he had to bend over quite far to do so.  Kurt narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the wizard, beginning to remember a bit more about their conversation the previous day.  He would bet his mother’s good china that the dwarves currently invading his home had something to do with the wizard’s “adventure”, despite the fact that he hadn’t agreed to participate in it.

 

“William,” Kurt greeted coolly as the wizard stepped in behind the now untangled dwarves.  All eight of them surged past him, and Kurt could hear the four that had already arrived greeting them all.  Before long, there were the sounds of clinking coming from the general direction of his pantry.  Kurt didn’t need to see what was going on to know what they were doing, and with a final glare at William, he went to intercept the dwarves.

 

“All of you stop that **right now**!” he barked at the crowd of beards and boots in the door to his pantry.  Twelve confused and bemused faces turned to look at him, and he bent a stern look on all of them, waiting until they all stepped back before he took up a place between them and his pantry.

 

“You and you,” he pointed at Sam and Mercedes, “will help me gather food from the pantry.  You and you,” Tina and Rory this time, “will get the dishes out of the cabinets in the kitchen and set the table.  You two,” he pointed to the tallest of the newly arrived dwarves, “will make sure that there are enough seats for everyone.  The rest of you will stay out of the way until the food is on the table.  Understood?”  He bent a hard look on the other six dwarves until they all nodded meek acceptance.  With things organized to his taste, he began to load up Sam and Mercedes with his selections from the pantry, giving them a dire warning as to what would happen if they dared snack on anything they were supposed to be delivering.

 

He was supervising the last stages of the table being laid when another knock came at the door.  All of the dwarves paused, their heads swiveling to look in the direction of the door.  Kurt looked over at William, raising an eyebrow in silent question.

 

“She’s here,” was all that the wizard said, his voice simultaneously foreboding and excited.  Kurt considered asking who exactly _she_ was, but instead decided in favour of going to find out for himself.  He stalked towards the front hall, trailed by a line of twelve dwarves and one wizard, and threw open the door, half expecting another pile on his floor, even if it would only be made up of one dwarf this time.  Instead, he was greeted by a haughty glare directed down a long, slightly hooked nose, and the dwarf waiting at the door pushed past him to greet the remainder of the dwarves.

 

“Kurt Hummel, may I present Rachel Berry, the leader of our company.”  William’s voice was formal, but sharp with a reproach that Kurt did not understand until Rachel turned, glowering resentment at the wizard.

 

“So this is the hobbit,” she said, her voice a throaty contralto that pulsed with distrust and distaste.  “Tell me, Mr. Hummel, have you done much fighting?”  Kurt frowned at her tone, his hackles bristling at the insinuation he could quite clearly interpret from her question.

 

“Against living things, no, but I am a crack shot with a slingshot.  And unless William has gone completely mad, I do not believe that he brought you all here to interview me as a fighter.”  He looked at the wizard, challenge in his eyes, and was disconcerted to see the man chuckling as he looked between Kurt and Rachel.

 

“You are quite correct, Kurt.  I would suggest that we adjourn to the dining room and break our fast whilst we have this discussion, though, as it is bound to be a long one.”  He gestured towards the back of the house, and Kurt reluctantly led the dwarves there, with one last sour look at the wizard.

 

They had nearly completed setting the table before Rachel arrived, so all that Kurt had to do was go and fetch the roast goose that had been warming by the fire in the kitchen and then serve his company their drinks.  They all ate heartily, though after the first few frosty glares and throat clearings from Kurt, they also did so politely and with at least a modicum of neatness.  Kurt sighed as he watched crumbs disappear into the largest dwarf’s beard and ale run down of Tina’s and accepted that he would likely be spending the next few days cleaning up after his uninvited guests.

 

He certainly wasn’t expecting them to begin to toss plates around once they were finished eating, and after his initial heart attack, he quickly snapped to action, taking a place in what seemed to be the most risky pass and halving the distance between Rory and one of the dwarves he hadn’t yet been introduced to.  They gave him wary looks, but when he sighed and caught the cup that Rory threw him and carefully tossed it on to the unfamiliar dwarf, they both relaxed.

 

Another dwarf, one with a furry hat, was standing at the sink when Kurt finally entered the kitchen, scrubbing at the last few pieces of dishware.  Behind her, the remainder of Kurt’s dishes were stacked neatly, so he began to put them away, murmuring his thanks to the washer as he did.

 

“What sort of guests would we be if we didn’t clean up after ourselves?” she asked philosophically, her gaze focused on a point over the back of his shoulder.  Kurt followed her eyes to see the dwarf he had been throwing dishes to standing in the doorway and watching the two of them.  “I’m Brittany,” the first dwarf said, bobbing a bow aborted by the sink in front of her.  “Don’t mind Santana.  She’s a little protective of me and Quinn and she probably won’t ever speak to you, but she won’t hurt you.”  Santana grunted something in the dwarvish language, frowning grumpily when Brittany laughed at her and leaving the kitchen.

 

When they were all resettled in the dining room, a small plate of cookies in the middle of the table and mugs of tea or ale in front of most of them, Mercedes turned to Rachel.

 

“What do the dwarves of the Iron Hills say?  Are they with us?”  Rachel bowed her head at the question, her hair falling forward to hide her face.

 

“They will not come.  They say this quest belongs to us, and us alone.”  She sighed, then raised her face to look at the rest of the company.

 

“You’re going on a quest?” Kurt asked, his throat tightening at the heartbroken look on Rachel’s face.  William touched Rachel’s arm and pulled a folded piece of parchment out of his pocket.

 

“Far to the East, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak.”  He tapped the sketchy shape of a mountain on the map he had unfolded, and Kurt leaned forward to read the script next to it.

 

“The Lonely Mountain,” he said, his voice coming out far more reverent than he had expected.  William nodded, quickly glancing over to Rachel, who was watching them with dark, unreadable eyes.

 

“Mike has read the portents, and they say it is time,” the wizard supplied

 

“Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain, as it was foretold: When the birds of old return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end,” supplied one of the dwarves, an older fellow with grey streaking his black hair and beard.  He nodded politely in return to Kurt’s abbreviated bow, then returned his focus to Rachel, who was stroking her short beard.

 

“Beg pardon, but _what_ beast?” Kurt asked, fear thrumming through his veins.

 

“Well that would be Sue the Terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne fire-breather, teeth like razors, claws like meathooks, extremely fond of precious metals.”  Brittany seemed almost pleased at these facts, but they made Kurt’s guts turn to ice.

 

“I believe I know what I dragon is,” he said tersely.

 

“This would be difficult enough with an army with us,” Mercedes said unhappily, leaning back in her chair.  “But we number just thirteen, and certainly not thirteen of the strongest.  Nor the brightest.”  A number of the other dwarves bristled at that, only to be interrupted by Rory.

 

“You forget, we have a wizard in our company.  William will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time.”  William choked slightly on his tea, his eyes widening.

 

“What does it matter,” Rachel burst out, jumping to her feet impatiently.  “If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have.  Rumours have begun to spread that the dragon has not been seen for sixty years.  Eyes look to the Mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk.  Perhaps our home now lies unprotected.  Even if we are but thirteen, do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours?  Or do we seize the chance to take back Erebor?”  She pounded once more in emphasis, and all of the dwarves surged to their feet, their voice raised in agreement.

 

“You forget,” Mercedes said, crossing her arms across her chest.  “The front door is sealed by fallen stone.  There is no way into the mountain.”  The dwarves all stared at her for several long moments, then began to sit down again.

 

“That,” William said hesitantly, “is not entirely true.”  He pulled a wrought-iron key out of his sleeve, holding it up in front of Rachel.

 

“How did you get this?” she asked suspiciously, one hand reaching out towards the key a little bit.

 

“It was given to me by your father for safekeeping.  Rightfully, it belongs to you now.”  William handed over the key, and Rachel examined it with wonder, turning it over and over in her hands.

 

“If there’s a key, there has to be a door,” Sam pointed out suddenly.  William smiled and nodded, once again tapping on the map.

 

“These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls.  There’s another way in - if we can find it.  Dwarf doors are invisible when they are closed, as you all know.  The answer to where the door is lies hidden somewhere on this map.  I do not have the skill to find it, but there are others in Middle-Earth who can.  Once we have found the door, the task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and almost as much courage.  If we are careful and clever, though, I believe it can be done.”

 

“That’s why we need a burglar!” the smallest of the dwarves exclaimed, seeming rather pleased with his deduction.

 

“A good one, too,” Kurt pointed out.  “Probably an expert, if you’re dealing with a dragon.”

 

“And are you?” asked the dwarf sitting next to Mike pointedly.

 

“Me?  A burglar?  No, I’ve never stolen a thing in my life.”  He was rather insulted by the implication and couldn’t imagine why the dwarf had made it.

 

“I’m afraid I have to agree with Mr. Hummel.  He’s not really burglar material.”  Mercedes said it kindly enough, and Kurt found himself nodding in agreement.  The remainder of the dwarves murmured their agreements, Tina going so far as to point out that he would not be able to either fight or fend for himself.

 

“Enough!” William burst out, suddenly seeming much larger than he already was.  “If I say that Kurt is your burglar, then he is indeed a burglar.”  He sat down and leaned his elbow on the table.  “Hobbits are very light on their feet, to the point that they can pass unseen by most if they choose.  And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, she will be unfamiliar with the scent of hobbit.”  He turned to Rachel, his gaze firm.

 

“You asked me to find the fourteenth member of your company, and I have chosen Kurt.  There’s a lot more to him than his appearance suggests, and he’s got more to offer than any of you know.  Including himself.  You must trust me on this.”  The wizard’s gaze bore down on the dwarvish leader until she sighed and gave a reluctant nod.

 

“Very well.  We’ll do this your way - if he accepts.  Mercedes, may I please have the contract?”  The dwarf pulled a thick packet of parchment out of her coat and handed it over to Rachel, who then passed it on to Kurt.

 

“It’s just the usual sort of thing,” Mercedes told him.  “Summary of expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, and so forth.”  Kurt blinked at her and then down at the parchment.

 

“Funeral arrangements?” he asked distractedly as he began to unfold the rather lengthy contract and read through it.  Beside him, he could hear William and Rachel conversing in low voices, but he was far too focused on what he was reading to pay them any mind.  The contract was incredibly detailed, and while he was quite happy to skim the majority of it, he found himself rather hung up on the section that detailed the potential negative outcomes for him.

 

“... injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof including but not limited to lacerations, evisceration, incineration...”  He looked up at the table to find them all staring at him.  “Was it really necessary to outline all the ways I might die?” he asked, knowing that his voice was a bit breathy.

 

“Not to worry,” Brittany offered.  “Flash of light, searing pain, and then -poof!- you’re nothing more than a pile of ash.  It’s a rather quick way to die, after all.”  Kurt raised his eyebrow at her, trying to calm the pounding of his heart.

 

“That really doesn’t help much, you know,” he pointed out dryly, before closing his eyes for several long moments.  Only once he felt composed again did he resume reading the contract.  He looked up once he had finished it to find himself once again the subject of intense scrutiny.  He took his time folding the contract up carefully, ignoring the way the dwarves’ faces began to droop.

 

“I think I would like some time to consider this,” he said to Rachel once he had stowed the contract in his coat pocket.  Her face vacillated between blank shock and incredible rage for a long moment before she nodded abruptly.

 

“Not too much time, though,” she cautioned as Kurt stood up from the table.  “We intend to leave at first light tomorrow, whether or not you are with us.”  Kurt gave her a quick bow of acknowledgement, then turned to the rest of the group and gave them a deeper bow before wishing them all a good night.

 

“It appears we have lost our burglar,” he heard Mercedes say as he left them behind to head into his room.  He shook his head at their doubt of him, and then began to pack all the things he thought he would need into his small travelling pack.  He still wasn’t convinced that joining their quest was the best choice, but he could always unpack the bag later if he decided not to join.  Rachel’s tone of voice had implied that the dwarves would not be waiting for him to pack in the morning if he wasn’t already prepared to leave.

 

As he stowed the last of his gear in his pack and latched it shut, he heard the faint rumblings of song coming from the parlour.  Creeping to his bedroom door, he cracked it open, drawing in a breath as the dwarves’ beautiful melody came through unrestricted.  He took a few steps back, sitting down on the edge of his bed and closing his eyes to better hear their song.  It was heart-rendingly sorrowful, telling the tale of the loss of their home through melody as well as lyrics.  Something inside of him twisted around sharply, and he suddenly knew that despite his reservations, he could never let this quest go on without him joining in.

 

So resolved, he sat through the remainder of the song then, as the last notes faded away, he found an alarm candle of the right approximate height and set it in its dish, lighting it from the fire he had already banked for the night.  He signed the contract, then quickly penned a few letters to his friends and family, letting them know that he would be gone for some time, asking them to care for his home while he was away, and leaving instructions on what was to be done with his home and belongings if he did not return within the space of a year.  He rather hoped that they would either have completed their task by then, or that he would be able to send a letter back to let everyone know that he was indeed still alive.

 

His tasks complete, Kurt settled himself into his bed, hoping that he would be able to get a good sleep with which to start off his adventure.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

 

The pinging sound of a metal ball dropping into a metal dish awoke Kurt in the grey light of dawn, and although he would have liked nothing better than to roll over and go back to sleep, he forced himself to get up and dress in the clothing he’d laid out the night before, patting each of his pockets to ensure that he had all of the small bits and pieces he had tucked into them.  He knew that he couldn’t carry much weight, but some strong thread, a few fishhooks, a small packet of needles, and his three sturdiest handkerchiefs all resided in various pockets, each of them a necessity in his mind.  He did a last check in his room, ensuring that he wasn’t leaving anything obvious behind.

 

He could hear the clattering of dishes emerging from his kitchen as he came out of his room, and briefly detoured to the front hall to deposit his pack alongside the weapons of the others before he went to investigate.  Three of the dwarves - Brittany, the large one, and the one that had asked him if he was a burglar - were cooking over the fire, simultaneously stirring a pot of porridge, flipping eggs, and carefully tending to bacon.  Kurt couldn’t even begin to imagine how the three of them were fitting into such a small space, but they seemed to be managing.

 

“Can I help with anything?” he asked once they had all stepped back slightly.  None of them started, though they did turn to look at him rather quickly.

 

We’ve got it, thank you,” the large one said, stroking the elaborate braid that looped down across her chest.  “Though we wouldn’t say no to some company.  The others have gone to fetch the ponies.”

 

Kurt didn’t hesitate to sit down at the table, and found to his delight that his teapot was full of freshly brewed tea.  He poured himself a cup and then looked up at the three dwarves.

 

“I hope you’ll forgive me,” he ventured, “but I don’t believe I caught all of your names last night, nor those of all your companions.  Brittany, you introduced yourself and Santana, and Mercedes, Tina, Sam, and Rory all gave me their names when they arrived.  Other than Rachel, though, I haven’t caught any other names.

 

“I’m Quinn,” the large dwarf said, lowering herself onto the bench across from him.  “Brittany is my sister.  This is Matt, whose brother is Mike, our healer.”

 

“He was the one who read the portents,” Matt supplied, though he only turned away from the fireplace long enough to nod politely.

 

“The three others with us are Finn, Puck, and Artie, all brothers, though with different fathers.  Artie’s the little one, and he’s our scribe.  Puck is the one with the mohawks.  Finn is the oldest, and if you want to stay on his good side, you need to be polite to his brothers.  He practically raised them, so he’s very protective of them.”  Quinn sounded somewhat offput by the behaviour, though it made perfect sense to Kurt.  Hobbits tended to be quite close to their families, to the point of treating cousins like siblings, and elder siblings were often quite attached to any who were quite a bit younger than them.

 

Matt was just dishing up the last of the bacon onto a platter when the clatter of hooves on the path outside alerted the four of them to the fact that the others had returned.  Kurt hurried to get the door for them, smiling slightly when he saw the surprise on several of their faces.  None of them said anything, though, and he was more than happy to leave things unspoken, instead puttering about with tea and coffee while they all ate hurriedly.

 

“Shouldn’t you be packing up?” Rachel grumbled at him at one point, glaring at him over the rim of the mug he’d just filled for her.

 

“Already done,” he told her calmly, pouring Mercedes another cup of tea as he did.  “I packed last night, and triple-checked that I had everything this morning.  My pack’s in the hall, my cloak and walking stick by the door.”  Rachel growled something under her breath before returning to her breakfast, whatever it was causing Brittany to stifle a giggle and Quinn to send him a wink.  Kurt pretended not to have heard any of it, simply snagging himself a small bowl of porridge, a few pieces of bacon, and two eggs in between supplying the dwarves and William with drinks.

 

“Enough tarrying,” Rachel finally said, once the majority of the food had been devoured.  “Let us get going before the morning has entirely departed.”  The dwarves were quick to abandon the table, though they did take the time to quickly wash the dishes, time Rachel spent tapping her foot in impatience.  Kurt seized the opportunity to head down to the postbox at the end of the lane, dropping his letters in them.  His home could certainly withstand the few days of emptiness it would take for the letters to arrive at their destinations, and he wasn’t sure that Rachel would wait for him to deliver them all in person.

 

Indeed, although he was still back in time to help them load up the ponies, Rachel made several snide comments about him needing to be ready to ride out when they were, and suggesting that if he was already causing delays, he would likely be a problem in the future as well.  Kurt ignored them steadfastly, focusing on the task at hand.  It was particularly easy to do given that he was incredibly nervous to be so close to both the biting and kicking ends of so many ponies.  He’d gone riding maybe a handful of times when he’d been a fauntling, and he’d fallen off at least half those times.  Since then, he’d had almost nothing to do with horses or ponies, but his conversations with some of the farmers had him convinced that they were both evil and stupid.

 

Rachel gave him an arch look once the ponies were all prepared, clearly expecting that he would find some other reason to delay.  Instead, Kurt turned to Tina and bowed politely.

 

“If you don’t mind, I believe I will need assistance to mount,” he said.  He could see Tina trying to hide a smile in her beard, but she returned his bow and gestured to Finn and Puck.  The two dwarves bowed politely and assisted Kurt to step into one of the stirrups and then mount the pony.  He’d been given the smallest of the ponies, but he still felt that he was far too high off the ground for his own safety.  Still, he gritted his teeth, clamped his legs around the barrel of the pony, and took up the reins before looking up at Rachel and William and nodding firmly.  Rachel looked like she was sucking on a lemon, while William’s eyes were twinkling enough to rival the sun.

 

The rest of the company was quick to mount up, clearly wanting to avoid the awkwardness, and Rachel quickly snapped herself out of the gaze she had locked on Kurt in order to get on her own pony.  With her leading and William just behind, they rode out, thirteen dwarves, one wizard, and Kurt in the middle of them.  He could feel the considering looks of other hobbits, each of them judging him as he rode by in the middle of such a strange group.  Hopefully his letters would be received in good enough time to explain his leavetaking before too many vicious rumours started.  He especially hoped that his friends and close family would be able to prevent his father’s less savoury relatives from successfully stealing anything that should rightly go to a closer family member.

 

They were out of Hobbiton in what seemed like a very short time to Kurt, who had only ever made the same trip on foot.  He’d briefly considered asking if he could walk rather than ride, before he’d felt challenged by Rachel, but the speed at which they were travelling made him rather grateful that he hadn’t, even if the pace the ponies were using was rather bumpy and uncomfortable.  Still, he hung on grimly, and when Sam and Rory rode up either side of him, he was able to give them a strained smile and assure them that he was doing alright.  They shared rather dubious looks with one another, but eventually shrugged and began to tell him about their home in the Blue Mountains, and the sorts of things they got up to there.

 

The enthusiasm of the two young dwarves was contagious, and soon the rest of the company began rotating their riding position, with either Sam or Rory always riding beside Kurt, competing with whichever other dwarf rode on his other side to tell the best tale or sing the best song.  Kurt often found himself drawn in by it, and even allowed them to coerce him into singing a few of the Elvish songs passed down to him by his mother.  Each time, the entire company fell silent and listened with respectful awe, something Kurt found out by asking was due to his voice.

 

“We all tend to have rather low voices,” Mercedes explained to him on the third day of their journey.  “Even when we’re young, you see.  So you being able to hit such high notes is a bit of an experience for all of us.”

 

“But surely you can just find some elves to listen to, given that you’re all quite the travelers,” Kurt protested in surprise.  Mercedes’ brow lowered into a frown, though not one that gave Kurt the impression that she was upset with him.

 

“We don’t tend to get along with elves,” she admitted.  “And I wouldn’t let you hear Rachel suggest such a thing.  She still holds a grudge against Jean and his folk for the way they let us suffer after the dragon Sue attacked.  She’s less a fan of elves than any of us, and that is saying quite a lot.”  Kurt snapped his mouth shut around the question he’s been about to ask, glancing behind himself to see where Rachel was.  She was the only one of the company who hadn’t come to ride with him - even William had spent a few hours with him, although the wizard was most often found beside their leader.  Kurt had noticed the suspicious looks that dwarf gave him, and although he wasn’t sure if she simply didn’t trust him to take care of himself or whether she thought he would betray her, the implication was nonetheless that he wasn’t good enough.

 

The weather, which had been so pleasant during their days riding through the Shire, turned sour as though to match Kurt’s mood.  Although it was well into May, the rain that poured down out of the sky was icy, clinging to all of their clothing and putting them all in an even worse mood.  Even Sam and Rory stopped being so jovial, and the stories of a happy life in the Blue Mountains turned to stories of those lost to Sue, and suppositions on how much gold the dragon might have hoarded in addition to what she had stolen from the dwarves.  Kurt tried not to let it affect him, but in his mind, he was bemoaning the loss of the food and dry clothes packed in their bags, for surely even oiled cloth couldn’t withstand the sort of weather they were having.

 

The only good thing that happened was that the rain stopped before they stopped to make camp that night.  Although they were able to dry some of their things by the fire, they all went to bed still somewhat damp, and Kurt found that he wasn’t able to sleep, the sounds of the dwarves around him distracting him far more than they ever had before.  Finally, after what felt like hours of tossing and turning, he sat up, glaring resentfully about him at the ten sleeping dwarves.  Mercedes was sitting watch, nestled into a curve of the rock near to the fire, and Sam and Rory were speaking quietly to each other, their energy seeming to have returned with the ending of the rain.

 

As Kurt stood and stretched, hoping that he would be able to settle back in afterwards, a high-pitched ululating cry floated through the night air, instantly sending a shiver running down Kurt’s spine.

 

“What was that?” he gasped, eyes wide.  He stumbled back a few paces, fetching up against the cliff wall beside Rory and Sam.

 

“Orcs,” Sam said, looking at Rory nervously.  The two of them stood and flanked Kurt, looking out past the fire and into the darkness over the edge of the cliff.

 

“Orcs?” Kurt asked, the word horrifying enough in and of itself, but still not truly an answer.

 

“Evil beings,” Rachel supplied, having come up soundlessly behind them.  They would kill you the instant they had eyes on you, if they could.”  She glared at all of them for a long moment, then turned away to stare out over the cliffs.

 

“Don’t mind her,” Mercedes offered softly.  “She has more reason than most to hate orcs.  A great pale Orc by the name of Jesse killed her father and drove the other one mad.  Still, in the face of defeat and complete loss, she rallied all of us, and had us beat back their forces, taking off the hand of the vile creature as she did so.  That is why I follow her, to this day, and why I will see her one day called King.”  The last word caused Kurt to blink and look at Mercedes in confusion.

 

“King?” he asked politely.  “But - isn’t she - well, a she?”  The rest of the dwarves looked equally confused, though at his question rather than at the idea of calling a female a King.

 

“Aye, lad, but it’s more a position than anything else,” Tina supplied, surprising him once again.  He looked around in confusion, only to see that the rest of the company had, at some point, woken up and were torn between staring at him and at Rachel.  “We’ve got a Queen, and she does a mighty fine job of it too.  A King is quite a different thing.”

 

“Enough talking,” Rachel said brusquely, as she turned away from the cliff and came back into the firelight.  “We’ll have to leave early tomorrow morning if we want to make good enough time.  If there are orcs out there, we don’t want to be sleeping unprotected.  There were some grumbles and mutters, but for the most part they all filed back to their bedrolls without complaint, though Kurt found that he still couldn’t sleep once he tried to get comfortable again.  Instead of tossing and turning, though, he stared up at the rock above his head and tried to contemplate the sorts of things Rachel had gone through.  He was familiar with the pain of losing his parents, but couldn’t imagine having his home ripped from him as well, or seeing his friends and family in need, never mind feeling responsible for caring for all of them as well.  It made him forgive just a bit of Rachel’s attitude, even if he couldn’t entirely fathom her disdain for any other than her own people.

 

They continued on their path the next morning, and if Rachel noticed that her hobbit burglar was giving her a little more leeway than usual, she made no mention of it.  Instead, she continued to treat him with her regular level of disregard, paying no mind to him except when absolutely necessary.  She seemed to cling to William more than ever, and their conversations grew increasingly intense, with both of them often riding away from the other with looks of frustration or anger.  The rest of the company watched with unease, none of them wishing to say anything to exacerbate the situation.

 

It all came to a head one evening, when they’d stopped at the edge of some woods.  It had been raining all day and was still drizzling a bit, and none of them were in a good mood.  William was exploring the ruins of a small farmhouse a short way from their campsite, while Rachel supervised the rest of the company in setting up the site.

 

“I do not think we should stay here,” William said dourly, suddenly appearing in the clearing they had chosen.  “Something ill has befallen this place.”

 

“If we go any further, we’ll be out in the open and prime targets for any who are seeking us,” Rachel snapped back, her beard practically bristling.  “Let us have one more night of relative peace.”

 

“We could go to the elves for help,” William pointed out.  Kurt knew the moment he saw Rachel’s frown that mentioning the elves had been a mistake.

 

“I will die before I ask for the help of elves,” Rachel spat.  “No, we are fine here for the night, and we will find a way to cross the plains and moors without the help of any elves.”  She turned her back on William pointedly, storming off to supervise the pot of soup that Quinn was stirring.  William stared after her for a long moment, then turned towards the ponies, seizing the reins of his horse from Matt’s hand and quickly mounting.

 

“Where are you going?” Kurt called after him as he wheeled his horse around.  William looked down the length of his nose at him, his expression black.

 

“I’ve had enough of the stubbornness of dwarves for one day,” he said darkly, then tapped his horse smartly with his heels, sending it on its way.  Kurt watched him go, though the dwarves around him seemed not to notice, simply continuing to go about their tasks as though nothing had changed.  Kurt wanted to shout at them and ask if they realized that they’d just watched their most powerful member ride away, but he knew that if he did, they would judge him as weak for it.  Instead, he waited until William was out of sight, then went to help Quinn with the soup.  The dwarf welcomed him good-naturedly and put him to chopping vegetables.

 

Night had truly fallen by the time the campsite was ready, and Kurt was helping dish out soup to the dwarves, his own portion sitting warm and comfortable in his belly.  Brittany had taken over from Quinn, carefully watching the size of the bowls presented and making sure nobody tried to sneak seconds until all had already received firsts.  The work was monotonous enough that Kurt found himself worrying once again about William’s disappearance, and though he did his best, he knew it was showing.

 

“Here,” Brittany said, shoving two large bowls into Kurt’s hands.  “No use in fretting.  Go take those to Sam and Rory.  They’re watching the ponies.”  Kurt fumbled with the bowls for a moment before settling them in a more balanced hold, then skipped out of the way before Brittany gave him a gentle-to-dwarves shove in the right direction.  He’d been the recipient of a few of those shoves, and though only the first one had sent him sprawling on the ground, they were still a generally unpleasant experience.

 

The path to where they’d loosed the ponies was rocky, but with the moon finally coming out from behind the clouds, there was just enough light for Kurt to see where he was going.  He’d expected to find Sam and Rory by the field they’d turned the ponies loose in, but as he emerged from the thin verge of trees he could not see them.  The skin on the back of his neck prickles and rather than calling out for them he began to search, the bowls clutched carefully out in front of him to avoid spilling them.  He stepped lightly, avoiding rocks that might skid and sticks that might crack under his weight instinctually.  There was a hush in the air that had all of his nerves alight with fear and anticipation, and he had to fight to keep his breathing regular.

 

“Kurt!”  The loud whisper nearly startled him enough to spill the soup he was carrying, and he whirled to face the direction it came from.  Sam and Rory were pressed up against a downed tree, staring at the herd of ponies, their faces creased in concern.

 

“What’s wrong?” Kurt asked, hurrying to join them.  He tried to press the bowls on them, but they ignored him, continuing to stare out into the dark.

 

“We’re supposed to be looking after the ponies,” Rory told him, and Kurt looked past them to the small herd.  They were restless, but he rather thought that was normal for ponies.

 

“Yes, and?”

 

“We had sixteen,” Sam provided.  “Now there’s only fourteen.”  Kurt blinked twice and then tried to do a quick count.  The milling of the ponies in the dim moonlight made his eyes blur, but after a few moments he was able to confirm that the two dwarves were correct.  Which, of course, left one obvious question.

 

“Where have they gone?” he asked.  Both Sam and Rory stared at him for a long moment, blinking.

  
“We don’t know,” Rory finally said.  Kurt sighed and then began to search the area, finally managing to press the bowls into the dwarves’ hands as he did so.  It didn’t take him long to find signs of where the ponies might have gone.

 

“It looks like something big uprooted these trees,” he said, kneeling beside one to feel the earth beneath it, which was still moist and cool.  “Recently too, by the looks of it.  Something big and presumably dangerous.”  He touched one of the trunks, quickly gauging the size and strength of something that could knock it over.  Before he could even come to a conclusion, there was a rustling among the trees.  They all ducked down around the roots and watched in horror as a large beast wandered by, heading towards what Kurt could now identify as the flickering of a fire.  Once it was past, Sam and Rory started following it in what was likely a stealthy manner for a dwarf, though it was awfully loud to Kurt's ears.

 

“What is that?” he asked, staring at the creature that, to him, was the epitome of a monster.  It took him several moments to realize that at least some of its grotesqueness was due to the fact that it was carrying two more of their ponies.

 

“It’s a mountain troll,” Sam whispered from up ahead.  “Come on, we need to get those ponies back!”  Kurt hesitated for a long moment, but recognizing one of the ponies as his Myrtle spurred him to move past his fear and follow the two dwarves.

 

They had stopped a short distance from the clearing in which the trolls had set their fire.  Kurt joined them behind a large downed tree, ducking up to peer at the trolls once he felt safely covered.  He could feel Sam and Rory mimicking him on either side, but the majority of his attention was on the three trolls.

 

“We need to do something!” he said in a harsh whispered when his eyes fell on the four ponies, restrained in a pen on the far side of the clearing.

 

“You’re the burglar,” Rory shot back, shoving at Kurt’s back.  Kurt swatted his hands away impatiently, quickly tracking out a path through the underbrush to the enclosure and planning how he could get the ponies away without being noticed.

 

“Trolls tend to be slow and stupid, right?” he asked Sam once he thought he had a plan.  Rory was squirming with impatience, but Sam seemed to understand that he was making a plan, and he thought for a long moment before nodding.

 

“Alright, Rory, go alert the others.  Get some of them to get the rest of the ponies away.  The rest of you need to wait in the field as back up.  Sam and I are going to get these four out and meet up with you there.”  Rory frowned for a moment, but a sharp look from his brother had him nodding agreement.

 

“If you need help, hoot twice like a barn owl and once like a brown owl,” he said before quickly scampering away.  Kurt shut his mouth once he realized that Rory was too far away for him to respond without risking being heard.

 

“I hope you know how to do that,” he told Sam dryly, causing the young dwarf to stifle a laugh.  “You and I are going to have to get the ponies out of that pen and away from here without the trolls hearing or seeing us.  No matter how slow or stupid they may be, that is not going to be easy to do.  So I need you to follow my lead and instructions exactly, alright?”  He fixed Sam with a stern look, waiting until he got a firm nod in response before he turned his gaze back to the clearing.

 

“Follow me,” he said after a long moment, turning and heading through the trees on the path he had mapped out in his mind.  He focused his hearing on the sounds coming from the clearing, but he could still hear the faint rustling sounds from Sam following him.  The trolls were discussing their food, alternating between complaining, bragging, and arguing.  Mostly arguing - Kurt heard the sound of flesh on flesh and then raised voices.  He sped up slightly, hoping to use their distraction to his benefit.

 

They emerged from the trees just to the side of the pen.  Kurt held up one hand, stopping Sam in his tracks.  He waited with bated breath, assessing the trolls’ level of attention.  The argument seemed to be over, and they were back to discussing their food.  Once he was relatively certain that they were not going to be looking at the horse pen any time soon, Kurt beckoned Sam up to his side.

 

“We’ll have to cut these ropes,” he whispered out of the side of his mouth.  “Give me one of your daggers and I’ll take the side closer to the fire while you handle over there.”  He pointed to the corner closest to the trees, keeping his movements as smooth as possible.  Sam nodded and carefully pulled out one of his daggers, wincing when it rasped slightly as it left the sheath.  Kurt eyed the trolls, but they seemed to be arguing again.

 

With the dagger in hand, Kurt crept towards the corner he was going to be working on, doing his best to keep the fence between himself and the trolls.  He knew he would be exposed for at least a short time, and he was hoping that he would be able to find a time where they were distracted.  For the time being, he started to saw at the ropes he could reach without coming into view.  Off to his right, he could hear the faint sounds of Sam working on his ropes.

 

Because Kurt was still focusing his hearing in order to be aware of the possibility of danger, he was able to identify the faint hooting of an owl somewhere in the forest behind him.  he didn’t think much of it beyond idly noting it until he heard curious crashing sounds coming from the same direction, steadily growing louder by the moment.  Sam eventually heard it as well, and he stopped sawing at the ropes.  The trolls also heard it and turned towards it, causing Kurt to duck down behind the fence and begin to crawl backwards.  He stopped when he felt a hand on his ankle, looking over his shoulder to see Sam staring at him with wide eyes.

 

They didn’t have to wait long to find out what was coming.  Wild yelling erupted from the trees and Rory appeared, firing his bow at the front-most troll.  He was followed by Tina and then six more dwarves, each of them brandishing their weapons and screaming out warcries that were unintelligible to Kurt.  The hobbit sighed, dragging a hand over his face in frustration before reaching out to grab the back of Sam’s coat as he started to run by.

 

“Ponies first,” he said, confident that the sound of the fighting would cover the level of noise he was making.  Sam hesitated, clearly wanting to go to his brother’s aid, then sighed and took up his dagger, resuming sawing on the ropes.  Kurt crept back to his side of the fence, keeping one eye on the brawl going on as he worked away vigorously.  The dwarves seemed to be holding their own, even against the much larger trolls, so he didn’t worry too much about rushing himself.  He presumed that Sam would be running to Rory’s aid as soon as he could, which would leave Kurt in charge of getting the four ponies safely away and in the charge of the four missing dwarves before he could return to help the remainder of his companions.  Provided there was anything left to help with, he allowed with a quick glance at the still-fighting mass of bodies in the clearing.

  
He finally came to the point where he would have to stand and place himself in clear view in order to cut the last of the ropes, so Kurt took a moment to prepare himself, watching Tina throw herself bodily at one of the trolls as he did so.  Sam brushed past him as he stood, and Kurt kept one eye on the young dwarf as he worked with desperate speed.  With the addition of Sam, the dwarves were able to split themselves up three to a troll, but Kurt knew that if one of the trolls were to pull back, the dwarves attacking it would likely focus on those still presenting a threat, leaving Kurt open and vulnerable.

 

It felt like an age came and went before the last strands of the rope frayed and then parted, though Kurt knew that it was likely only a matter of moments.  He quickly jumped back to avoid being caught by the section of fence as it thumped to the ground.  Seconds after it fell, he was inside the pen, gathering up the lead ropes and encouraging the ponies to follow him.  He’d worried that they might spook, but they seemed content to follow him as long as he was heading away from the noisy melee, so he was able to get them out of the clearing and in amongst the trees with little effort.

 

Of course, things couldn’t continue to go so well, so just as the last pony’s tail was disappearing into the trees, one of the trolls caught sight of it and let out a great roar of anger.  The ponies reared and the bolted, ripping their lead ropes out of Kurt’s hands despite his desperate attempts to keep hold.  He did the only thing he could think of and seized a fallen branch, using it to thrash at the underbrush in an attempt to drive the ponies in the right general direction.

 

He knew that he was making a rather tempting target of himself, so he wasn’t entirely surprised when he felt the presence of one of the trolls behind him.  Gambling, he dived to his left, rolling under a bush as he did so.  The troll had miscalculated and gone right, so Kurt quickly scrambled along the bush in the general direction of the clearing.  He hoped that the ponies were far enough away to not present a distraction of incite the troll to go after them, but he also hoped that the fool thing didn’t think to look behind itself.

 

He could hear the fighting behind him and maneuvered towards it, knowing that he would be far safer if he was surrounded by the dwarves, even in the middle of the battle.  He was nearly there when there was crashing behind him, confirming that the troll had figured out where he was and had given up on the ponies.  Kurt put on an extra burst of speed, abandoning stealth for the safety of the group.  The fire was halfway out, and with the flickering shadows of the combatants, it was difficult to tell where exactly he was.

 

Of course, given Kurt’s luck, he slipped out from between two trees and right into the path of a rampaging troll.  He ducked under the creature’s swing, then had to dodge around Tina as she followed with her axe raised.  He was grabbed by Finn, who simply spun him around and pushed him out of the way, which happened to be up against a tree.  Kurt’s back hit hard and he slid down the trunk to sit on the ground, slightly stunned by the force with which he had hit.  He had to force himself to shake it off when he spotted Sam and Rory being cornered by the troll that had chased him in the woods.  He seized a large stone that happened to be lying by his hand and lobbed it at the creature with all his might.  His skill at conkers held true and the stone struck the troll squarely behind the ear, knocking it silly and making it totter about for a moment before dropping to sit heavily on the ground.  Sam and Rory were clearly shocked, but they took up their weapons and went to join in the rest of the battle, while Kurt cast about himself for more rocks.

 

He was awaiting another opportunity for a good shot when he caught sight of something moving through the trees toward the large rock on the east side of the clearing.  It took Kurt a long moment to realize that the flickering shape was William, but he still couldn’t imagine what the wizard was up to.  Instead of worrying about it, he continued to sidle around the edges of the clearing, finding stones and pitching them at the trolls.  None of them stayed down for long, despite the accuracy of his hits, but he was distracting them enough to be helpful to the dwarves.

 

“Let’s get on with it,” one of the trolls yelled at the others as it took a step away from the fighting.  “Night’s almost over and dawn’s coming.”  Seeing the troll present such a perfect target, Kurt scrambled for a rock, hoping that this time he might be able to do more than just briefly distract it.

 

“Dawn take you all,” William’s voice boomed out behind Kurt, and there was a loud cracking sound just as Kurt seized a rock and pitched it at the troll.  Dawn light flooded the clearing, dazzling Kurt and making his eyes water.  He heard a strange clacking noise and began rubbing furiously at his eyes, not wanting to be defenseless **and** blind if there was a new threat.

 

However, when his vision cleared, it was to the sight of all three troll standing oddly still and looking - different somehow.  It wasn’t until he spotted the rock he had thrown at the feet of one of the creatures that he was able to put two and two together.  With his heart finally starting to settle, he took a few careful steps forward, then approached the new statues without any fear.

 

“Sunlight turns them to stone,” William said as he came up alongside Kurt.  “There is likely a cave nearby where they hid during the day.  It may be worth searching for it to see what they had in their hoard.”  He gave the dwarves a significant look and they spread out and into the woods, searching intensely around the rocky outcroppings.

 

Rory was the one to find the entrance to the cave, and his shout brought the rest of them running.  All of the dwarves wanted to investigate the hoard, but William selected four of them to accompany him and set the rest of them to investigating and guarding the mouth.  Kurt was happy to stay outside given what he could smell from well away from the cave.  Instead of rooting around in a disgusting dark hole, he was happy to stand out in the warm sunlight, digging his toes into the soil as he nominally stood watch.  After all of the rain that had fallen, the woods smelled fresh and green.

 

“Here, take this,” William said, causing Kurt to whirl around.  He accepted the short sword from the wizard, inspecting it with great interest.  “The blade is Elvish, so it will glow blue when orcs or goblins are nearby.  Just remember that true courage is not about knowing how to take a life, but when not to.”  Kurt looked up sharply, eyeing the wizard with suspicion, as his words held more than a bit of prophecy.  The wizard’s face was impassively blank, however, so Kurt eventually turned his attention back to the sword, though he could feel William’s gaze remain on him for a long time.

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

 

As they continued on, first through forest, then plains, and finally into rolling and rocky foothills, Kurt couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being followed.  The ponies seemed to share his uneasiness, and they required extra care and cosseting every evening to get them to settle down.  Kurt had mentioned his concerns to Mercedes, and she had even gone so far as to set a rear guard.  When nothing had been spotted for several days, though, he began to feel foolish.  Rachel had given him more than a few unimpressed looks, but the continued uneasiness of the ponies seemed to have saved him from anything worse.  Most of her ire was being directed at William anyway, as he kept suggesting that they seek out the help of some of his elven friends, both to investigate the map and to resupply.  It sounded rather lovely to Kurt, who was suffering from not only fewer but also smaller meals than he was accustomed to.  Rachel was firm, however, so they all tightened their belts and forged on.

 

They were beginning their third day’s march when an eerie howling filled the air.  The ponies all tensed and then moved to bold, and only the strength of their tethers kept them where they were.  Kurt also tensed, the shivers traveling up his spine sending a clear signal to flee.  He forced his body into stillness, though he couldn’t help the slight trembling of his hands.

 

“Wargs!” Rachel exclaimed, breaking the silence that had fallen over the camp.  “Saddle up and ride now!”  The dwarves all jumped to obey her command, and Kurt found himself shoved out of the way as Finn, Mercedes, and Brittany all converged on his pony, quickly getting her tacked up.  Kurt instinctively wanted to tell them that he could handle it himself, but he kept his mouth closed, knowing that he would only be causing a fuss over something he was much slower at doing.  Instead, he made sure that he had his pack settled on his back, and he quickly scrambled up onto Myrtle’s back as soon as she was ready.  He even found it within himself to nod thanks to Tina after she “boosted” (more like tossed) him up to the saddle.

 

He was well situated and prepared to cling for his life by the time the last of the dwarves was mounted.  Rachel led them out of the little hollow they’d been camped in at a fast trot, a pace that sped up to a canter as soon as they were clear of the worst of the rocks.  Because his horse’s legs were much longer than those of their ponies, William was easily able to take the lead once they were out into open ground, and he did not hesitate to do so.  Once he was past, however, he pulled his horse back, seemingly content just to be in front.

 

His reasoning became clear once the first of the wargs came into sight.  While Kurt would have been inclined to make a sharp turn to avoid them, William veered off on a different route, one on more of a tangent to the wargs’ apparent path.  None of them seemed inclined to ask why they weren’t just turning entirely away, though in the dwarves’ case it was likely because all their focus was on the wargs.  From the distance they were at, they looked like nothing more than misshapen wolves, though even that was enough to send a frisson of fear through Kurt.  Further reflection, however, made him realize that the creatures must be more than twice the size of wolves, which was an even more terrifying thought.

 

Their ponies carried them behind another outcropping of rock and the wargs were lost to view, allowing Kurt to refocus on his surroundings.  He turned his attention to the direction they were heading and was surprised to see that they were riding towards the mountains they had been skirting the previous day.  He couldn’t imagine why - surely the wargs would be more comfortable scaling the mountains than their ponies would, and they would be easy to catch.  Still, maybe the wizard knew of a good place where they could make a stand and he was leading them there.  

 

With that in mind, Kurt checked the pouch he had tied to his saddle, in which he had started stowing appropriately-sized rocks.  He still hadn’t learned how to use the sword that William had given him beyond jabbing with the point, but he had been practicing his aim.  By now, he could hit a bird on the wing and had been doing his part to fill the pot.  Of course, he couldn’t imagine that a rock thrown by a hobbit was going to do much to deter a warg, but he was determined to at least try to help.

 

The howling sounded awfully close by the time they emerged from the rocky passageway William had led them through.  Kurt looked about in vain for a good place to make a stand, but all he could see was the feet of the mountains just ahead of them.  Another howl spurred him to look back, and he blanched in fear at how much closer the wargs were.  He turned his worried gaze to William, hoping to see some sign that the wizard had things under control.  Instead, William looked deeply concerned, a sight that chilled Kurt to the bone.

 

Before he had the opportunity to ask any questions, however, William turned his horse’s head in a slightly different direction and clicked to it, leading them off again.  Kurt could hear several of the dwarves grumbling at the wizard’s authoritarian and uncommunicative ways.  If he hadn’t been so frightened, Kurt might have laughed at them, given what their own leader was like.  As it was, he could only stare at them in terrified wonder and shock.  Only Artie seemed even the slightest bit nervous, given the way he was stroking his slingshot.  All of the others seemed to be, at worst, focused on riding and, at best, to be downright enjoying themselves.  Both Puck and Santana had broad grins on their faces, and Matt seemed to be laughing uproariously at something Mike had said.  Even Mercedes and Rachel didn’t seem overly concerned, though they were holding a shouted conference as they rode neck-and-neck with one another.  Kurt couldn’t see how the dwarves riding behind him were taking things, but he could hear both Brittany and Tina shouting and laughing, so he had to presume they weren’t much different from the others.  He tried to take heart from the fact that none of them were concerned, but he kept seeing William’s worried face in his mind’s eye.

 

Kurt wasn’t paying much attention to the direction in which they were riding beyond keeping his eyes on the tail of Artie’s pony, so he was surprised when a shadow fell over him.  He started and looked up around himself, only to find that they were passing through a narrow rift in the mountainside to emerge in what seemed to be a smoothly cut pathway nestled in the crease between two mountains.  Kurt stared at the smooth walls with awe, wondering what - or who - could have worn them away.  Much to his surprise and chagrin, the dwarves seemed much more bothered by the state of the passageway than they had been by the wargs.  Kurt stared at the walls intensely for several long moments, but when he couldn’t spot anything that looked even remotely dangerous, he forced himself to relax slightly.

 

“It’s not natural,” he heard Artie say quietly, and he leaned to the side just enough to see that the dwarf was running his fingers along one of the walls.

 

“What isn’t?” he asked, and Artie jumped a little before turning in his saddle to look back at Kurt.

 

“These walls.  They’re too smooth to have been carved by any natural force.  I’d swear they were dwarven work if it weren’t for the fact that there are no dwarven settlements near here, nor have there ever been.”  Artie looked up at the smooth stone walls again, shaking his head with a look of bemusement.  In front of him, Finn was doing the same thing with an equally intense look.  In fact, all of the dwarves had looks on their faces that varied between consternated and frightened.  Kurt couldn’t see William’s face, but the set of his shoulders said that he was much more relaxed.  It was an odd contradiction to the dwarves’ fear, but it was enough to reassure Kurt that they were finally safe from the wargs.

 

The path that they were on was beginning to widen, so Kurt rode up next to Artie, turning to ask the dwarf some questions about dwarven history.  Artie was the youngest of the dwarves, and due to him being Finn’s brother, he and Kurt had been thrown together when Finn had taken Kurt under his wing.  Artie was much less reluctant to answer questions than most of the other dwarves, and he and Kurt had begun to build a friendship.  The young dwarf was also equally eager to hear about hobbits, and frequently would write things down when they talked.

 

“Here we are!” William exclaimed, and Kurt looked up, only to have his jaw drop in awe.  They were standing on the edge of a deep valley, one with lush green sides falling away to a rocky river at the base.  On the far side of the valley, a series of terraces and buildings marched upwards towards the sinking sun, all of them coloured a beautiful shade of orangey-yellow from the sunlight.  There were several bridges spanning the valley, some looking like they were made of spun sugar, others sturdier, but all of them graceful, beautifully carved, and perfectly arched across the valley.

 

“It’s beautiful!” Kurt exclaimed, and Artie echoed him, his eyes just as wide as Kurt’s felt.  The rest of the dwarves seemed far less impressed, and Rachel looked downright murderous, interspersing glowers at the vista with glares at William.  The wizard seemed unaware of everyone else’s reactions, simply leaning against the staff he had tucked into his stirrup and surveying the valley.

 

“Why have you brought us here, William?” Rachel asked, her voice harsh.  The wizard blinked calmly, seemingly unphased by the dwarf’s anger.

 

“We require a rest and more provisions, Rachel, and we didn’t have many options for escaping the wargs.  What else would you have had me do?  Lord Beiste and his people are not our enemies, and they may be able to help us find the hidden directions on the map.”  He arched an eyebrow at Rachel, who opened her mouth to argue until Mercedes grabbed her arm, despite the distance she had to lean over the side of her pony.  Rachel’s mouth snapped shut, but she still glared hotly at William, even as he began to lead them down the steep switchback trail that took them to the foot of one of the bridges.

 

“Welcome to the Valley of Imladris.  In the Common Tongue, it is known by another name,” William said as they gathered on a small plateau at the foot of the bridge.  The name triggered a memory in Kurt, and he sighed happily.

 

“Rivendell,” he breathed, then flushed slightly when a few of the dwarves shot him looks.

 

“Indeed.  Here lies the last Homely House east of the sea.  We will find no ill-will here but that which we bring ourselves.”  William arched an eyebrow pointedly at Rachel, who simply continued to glare at him.

 

“Do you really think these elves will give us their blessing?  They will try to stop our quest.”  William frowned at her tone, but eventually nodded slightly.

 

“They will.  But we have questions that cannot be answered by any others.  Succeeding will require tact, respect, and charm.  I would suggest leaving the talking to me.”  Kurt chuckled, but the dwarves grumbled under their breaths, though none of them spoke up to contradict William.  The wizard eyed them all for a long moment, before turning back to face the bridge.

 

“I would suggest that we dismount and lead our ponies from here,” he said mildly.  All of them sighed, but they dismounted nonetheless, and slowly began to step along the expanse of the bridge.  It was one of the widest and sturdiest, but without any handrails, all of them seemed to feel that they were not entirely safe on it.  Kurt wondered how much of the dwarves’ concerns were based on the fact that it was an elvish bridge rather than the fact that they were suspended a rather fearsome height above a river on a bridge with no railings to stop them were they to slip.  Despite their reservations, however, they made it across safely to the plateau on the other side, where they were stopped by a stately elf.

 

“Beiste, my old friend,” William said, bowing his head slightly in respect.  The elf came forward, offering his hand to the wizard.

 

“William.  What brings you here, my friend?”  The elf looked over the motley assortment of dwarves with a sardonic look, lingering on Kurt for an extra moment.  It was a discomfiting feeling, being examined so thoroughly by one who was so much bigger than him, especially one who was so lordly.  Artie beside him seemed even more offput by the examination, judging by the way he shifted constantly until the elven lord’s eyes turned back to the wizard.

 

“We were passing through when we were intercepted by wargs.  I thought it best to come here for the time being so that we could rest and resupply.”  William’s face was the picture of sincerity and innocence, but even Kurt could hear that there was some level of untruth to his words.  Lord Beiste seemed disinclined to comment, though, simply running his eyes over their party again and resting them on one particular member.

 

“Welcome, Rachel Berry,” he said formally, bowing his head slightly.  Rachel looked up, only just managing to keep a civil look on her face.

 

“I do not believe we have met.”  Her tone was on the borderline of rudeness, but she managed to keep it just tolerant enough to avoid entirely offending their hosts.

 

“I knew your grandfather when he was King under the Mountain.  Now, please allow us to feed you and provide you with rooms.”  Rachel hesitated for a long moment, eyeing the elf with clear displeasure, but she gave in when Artie’s stomach growled loudly into the relative silence.

 

“My thanks,” she told the elf gruffly, managing to bend her head in an approximation of a bow.  Lord Beiste inclined his head in response, and the two locked eyes for a long moment until Matt piped up, clearly tired of waiting.

 

“If you’re to be giving us food, would you please lead us there now?”  A couple of the elves tittered behind Beiste, but the Lord simply bestowed a look upon the dwarf and turned gracefully, gliding away.  William fell in at his side and the rest of them formed a rough line behind the two of them, straggling along like ducklings in the wake of two great swans.  Kurt was the only one who was willing to walk at the back, as they were followed by the handful of elves that had been Lord Beiste’s retinue.  A few of them spoke the Common Tongue, or were at least willing to admit that they did, and they pointed out sights and landmarks to him as they went along.  Kurt did his best to memorize them, for the sake of his dwarven companions if not himself.  He knew that none of them would be willing to ask for directions were they to get lost.

 

Up close, the buildings, bridges, and terraces of Rivendell were just as beautiful as they were at a distance, if not more so.  Some of the carvings that had appeared simple from a distance were intricate with carvings within carvings, while some were still simple, but made beautiful by the purity of the lines.  Kurt stopped a few times to study particularly intricate carvings, exclaiming in awe whenever one of the elves pointed out an additional image or interpretation.  Their hosts seemed delighted at his enjoyment of their art, and he didn’t doubt that he seemed especially gracious given the attitudes of the dwarves.

 

They were all escorted to beautifully appointed rooms, the dwarves insisting on keeping to their familial groups and sharing the big beds in each room between two or three of them.  Kurt felt odd, being the only one of the group other than Rachel and William to have his own room, but he wasn’t about to volunteer to share with any of the dwarves, so he simply thanked the elf that had taken him to his room profusely and stowed his pack neatly before following the rest of the group to an open-air dining hall, where they were ushered to a smaller table built for those of their stature.  Kurt wondered at the fact that beings so large as the elves would have chairs and tables for those such as he, especially given that they did not seem to be be on good terms with the dwarves and hobbits were not common travelers.  Still, he knew that his mother had met with elves a few times on her adventures, and he supposed that the relationship between dwarves and elves might not have always been so contentious.

 

The food brought out to them by yet more elves smelled mouthwatering, and Kurt was quick to serve himself and fall upon it once it was placed on the table.  He was so eager to eat that it took him several minutes before he noticed that his dwarven companions were picking at the food and arguing loudly about it.  He surveyed them with surprise, remembering how all of them had been complaining of their hunger.  Most of them were simply pushing the salads and steamed vegetables around their plate, though Finn, Mercedes, and Quinn were all eating slowly and with many unhappy faces.

 

“You should eat,” Finn said between bites, taking Artie’s fork and spearing a few pieces of greenery.  “Just try it.”  Artie made a face and leaned away, shaking his head when Finn tried to approach him with the fork.

 

“I don’t want to.  It’s green, and that’s just not natural,” Artie said petulantly, quickly clapping a hand over his mouth when Finn tried to take advantage of it being open.  Kurt had to hide his snort of laughter in another bite of salad, wondering how in the world anyone could think vegetables were unnatural.  He knew that given a few days of this kind of diet, he too would be missing meat and potatoes and cheese, but for now he was quite happy to be eating anything at all.  Still, the complaints of the dwarves were quite amusing, so he continued to listen to them even as he demolished everything on his plate and then started in on Artie’s.  The younger dwarf was quite happy to slide portions onto his plate every time Finn turned his back, and once Finn saw that the food was disappearing, he left his younger brother to his own devices.

 

Despite the fact that the dwarves were eating very little, they continued to linger at the table as the sun began to set.  It was nearly full dark before they all stood, most of the dwarves quite unsteady on their feet due to the fact that they’d been drinking quite a bit of wine on empty or nearly-empty stomachs.  Kurt trailed along behind them, not entirely wanting to leave the peace and tranquility of the music that was being played, but knowing that he was exhausted enough to drop at a moment’s notice.  In fact, he felt his eyelids growing heavy and beginning to droop even as he wandered back to his room, already beginning to dream of the comfort of the bed.

 

He slept well for a few hours before a great commotion awoke him, one that seemed to be coming from the courtyard that all of their guest rooms centred around.  Heaving a great sigh, Kurt carefully slid down from the overly tall bed and went out to investigate what was going on, only taking long enough to pull his surcoat on over his rumpled bed-clothing to provide him with a bit of additional warmth and coverage.  He emerged into the courtyard, only to stop and gasp in shocked astonishment.  The dwarves had broken up several pieces of Elvish furniture and were using it to build a fire, one that Matt already had crackling merrily.  Off to one side, Quinn was using her knife to sharpen a few stakes, and judging by the packs laid out beside her, she was intending on roasting what little meat they had left, and potentially the handful of vegetables the dwarves would actually eat.

 

“What are you doing?” he exclaimed, stepping forward into the flickering firelight.  A handful of the dwarves looked up at him, but most of them focused on continuing to break down furniture into firewood sized pieces.

 

“We’re hungry,” Artie said petulantly.  “So we’re going to eat.  And since all they like to eat here is leaves, we have to make our own food.”

 

“By burning furniture?”  Kurt was incredulous.  “Why not simply ask the elves to bring you firewood.  I’m sure they have some.”

 

“Rachel said not to speak to the weed-eaters,” Mercedes said, startling Kurt, who hadn’t seen her in the shadow of a pillar.  “None of us are going to go against her will.  If you’re so concerned about it, you go ask them yourself.”  Kurt gaped at her, then forced his mouth shut when he heard a few snickers from the dwarves around him.  He knew that he wasn’t brave enough to go speak to the elves after being a witness to what the dwarves had done, so he finally had to storm back to his room, trying to pretend that he wasn’t just avoiding the issue.  There were more snickers behind his back, but he refused to acknowledge them, simply keeping his back stiff and his steps steady.  He made a note to himself, though, to speak to William in the morning, and ask him to intercede between the dwarves and the elves.

 

He did just that, though the wizard’s reaction was not a reassuring one.  William simply smiled and reassured him that all would be fine in the end, and that the dwarves would simply have to learn to be around the elves.  Kurt couldn’t foresee that happening, especially given the way that they were acting over breakfast.  The elves seemed to have adapted to their preferred diets, and although there was no meat still, there was bread, potatoes and various roasted vegetables instead of salad and light fruits.  Still the dwarves complained, despite the fact that they devoured everything in sight.  In fact, Quinn even managed to complain while she was eating, which was both impressive and disgusting.

 

Impatient with the antics of the dwarves, Kurt left them to their devices and went in search of something interesting amongst the elves.  They all seemed thrilled to have him interested in their culture, and were more than willing to show him around nearly the entirety of the valley, only leaving out the areas that contained the private residences.  It took several days for them to see the entirety of Rivendell, days that Kurt spent picking his guides’ brains about everything that he could think to ask about.  They taught him bits and pieces of Sindarin, aspects of elvish culture, even information about the history of the world that he had never known about.

 

He knew that there was something going on between William, Rachel, and Beiste, but he didn’t pay much attention to what was going on beyond making sure that he was ready to go at any time.  The tension in the air between the three of them made him uneasy, and so he was not happy to be invited to join them and Mercedes in a conference.  He wanted to refuse, but the look that he got from William when he even hesitated was enough to have him sighing and accepting.  They went directly to the terrace on which they were meeting, giving Kurt no way to get out of the discussion, though he still desperately looked for one.

 

The others were already there when they arrived, and William headed over to Rachel, allowing Kurt to hang back in the shadows with Mercedes, who nodded politely in welcome when he joined her.  Beiste joined William and Rachel and at a nod from William, Rachel reluctantly produced the map from one of her pockets.  She held it against herself for a moment, causing William to sigh.

 

“Rachel, for goodness sake, show Lord Beiste the map.  He is one of the few in Middle-Earth who can read it.”  Rachel hesitated for a breath longer before extending it to the elf, who took it from her with delicate fingers.  He unfolded it carefully and began to examine it before casting a sharp look at Rachel and William.

 

“Erebor.  What is your interest in the Lonely Mountain?”

 

“Academic, I assure you,” William said, speaking before Rachel could even open her mouth.  The dwarven princess gave him quite the look, but she smiled thinly at Beiste when he looked to her for confirmation.  “You do still read ancient Dwarvish, do you not?” William asked before Beiste could ask any further questions.  The elf lord gave him a look and took the map over to a stone table placed at the edge of the terrace.  He turned the parchment this way and that, examining it from every angle before he actually set it down on the table.

 

“Moon-runes,” he said simply, then looked up at the group of them.  “They can only be read by the light of a moon of the same shape and season as the day they were written.  These were written on a Midsummer’s Eve by the light of a crescent moon.  It seems that fate is with you, Rachel Berry, as the same light shines on us tonight.  I can translate them for you, if you so wish?”

 

“Please,” Rachel said through gritted teeth, trying to be polite, though it clearly bothered her.  William placed a hand on her shoulder as though to reassure her, though Kurt wondered if it were more a matter of controlling her.  Still, Beiste dropped his eyes back to the map and began to trace lines on it.

 

“Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks, and the setting sun with the last light of Durin’s Day will shine upon the keyhole,” Beiste recited slowly, then looked up again.

 

“Durin’s Day?” Kurt asked, unable to contain his curiosity.  The eyes of the others all snapped to him, and he flushed slightly, but kept his chin up, looking steadily at Rachel.

 

“The first day of the dwarves’ New Year.  The first day of the last moon of Autumn, when it and the first sun of Winter appear in the sky together.”

 

“But it’s already Midsummer!” Kurt exclaimed.  “That means that we’ve only got a short while to get there and find this door!”  He didn’t realize what he’d said until both Beiste and Rachel turned their attention to him, and he clapped his hand over his mouth once he thought his words through.

 

“So that is your purpose, then?  To enter the mountain?”  Lord Beiste did not sound pleased, and by the scowl on her face, Rachel heard as much.

 

“And what if it is?” she asked, tilting her chin up defiantly.

 

“There are some who would not deem it wise,” Beiste said softly, frowning.  William suddenly looked concerned and deeply thoughtful, as though he had not considered some aspect of what the elf lord had said.

 

“Be that as it may,” Rachel told him, “that is indeed our quest.  Will you deny us your aid because of it?”

 

“No, but I warn you that not all will be so welcoming as I, were they to learn of your intentions.  Do not show any others this map, nor tell them where you are going.”  Beiste folded the map and returned it to Rachel before sweeping away, leaving the four of them to contemplate his words.  Kurt felt a shiver travel up his spine at the thought of encountering creatures as powerful as elves who were actively antagonistic to their quest.

 

They celebrated with another fire in their courtyard that night, although this time they were supplied with firewood by William, who stopped by long enough to hold a short whispered conversation with Rachel and Mercedes before disappearing to where ever he had been staying during their sojourn.  They raided their packs for the last of their own supplies, though Kurt noticed a few elves covertly sneaking various foodstuffs into their pile when none of the dwarves were watching.  He wasn’t of the mind to say anything, so he simply nodded his thanks to them when he knew that he wouldn’t be spotted.

 

Their departure the next day was accompanied by a parade of elves, all of whom sang songs of parting as they walked them across several bridges to bring them to the far side of the valley and right up to the mountains again.  Their packs had been refilled with all the food the elves could give them, particularly an odd lightweight travel bread that the elves claimed could feed them for a day with a single mouthful.  Kurt doubted its abilities, especially against the appetites of dwarves and a hobbit, but he wasn’t going to look sideways at the additional food, especially given that they had eaten virtually everything they had brought with them.  They would need to hunt to supplement the rations they had been given, especially as none of it had included meat.  Still, it was more than generous rations, and Kurt was grateful that they would have something to get them through the lean times.

 

They stopped at the top edge of the valley, and Kurt took the time to look back at Rivendell, shining in the early morning sunlight.  There was a sinking feeling in his heart at the idea of leaving such a wonderful safe haven, but he still felt like he had to press on, owing it to the dwarves to keep up his agreement with them.  So, with one final look back, he turned forward again and followed the rest as they rode forward into the rising sun.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

 

The path led upwards, winding through passes and up around mountains, each day finding them further and higher.  There were a multitude of paths, and often they would remain at the foot of a crossroads until William remembered the correct way to go.  They were so high that the pleasant weather of midsummer turned to the sort of weather that Kurt was accustomed to seeing in late fall and early spring, even days where it seemed to be winter.  There was frequently snow on the ground when they awoke in the morning, and on a few occasions, it stayed all day, the sun not strong enough to melt it.  It was quite the contrast to what Kurt knew life was like back in the Shire.

 

It didn’t help that when they had spoken to Beiste, he had been given the impression that it would only be a matter of days before they were across the mountains.  It had been several days since they left Rivendell already, and they still seemed to be ascending for the most part.  The weather continued to worsen as they climbed, until they found themselves in the midst of the worst thunderstorm he had ever seen.  Or at least, he thought it was simply the worst thunderstorm he had ever seen, until he heard Mercedes shouting.

  
“This is no thunderstorm, but a thunder-battle!” she cried, and pointed out across the chasm.  Great giants pulled themselves from the sides of the mountain and began to throw great chunks of rock at one another, many of which missed and came crashing into other sections of the mountain.  A boulder shattered on the mountainside above them, sending a great river of splintered stone torrenting past them.  They all ducked under a small overhang to avoid the dangerous rain, shouting warnings to one another as individual shards flew out of the river and towards them.

 

“We need to get to shelter!” Rachel shouted at William, her eyes wide and panicked.  “If we aren’t blown off the mountain, drowned, or struck by lightning, we’ll be crushed by a stone giant.  Get us out of here, wizard.”

 

“I cannot simply make us disappear and then reappear elsewhere,” William said grumpily.  “If I could, I would have done so already in order to get us to Erebor.  If you know of a better way, lead us there!”  The wizard gestured to the path in front of him, and Rachel dismounted and brushed by impatiently, trailed by Rory and Sam.  Before long, the three of them disappeared from sight, and the rest of them huddled together, shivering as the rain turned to hail and began to pelt them.

 

“We found a cave!” Sam said, as he climbed back down the path, followed by his brother.  It looks dry enough, and there does not seem to have been anyone there for quite some time.  It is small, but should be big enough to shelter us and the ponies.”  They all sighed gratefully, and as soon as Rachel returned, they moved forward, encouraging their ponies along the narrowing path until Sam and Rory turned into what appeared to be a narrow crack but was actually the entrance to the cave they had found.  They all had to dismount and untack their ponies before squeezing them through, but soon enough they were all settling into the nooks and crannies of the cave, rubbing down the ponies before throwing down some fodder in one corner for them.

 

The cave was significantly warmer than the air outside had been, and even though William refused to let them set a fire, they were able to spread their clothes out to dry slightly.  They each had some of the elvish travel bread rather than trying to choke down some of their other supplies without cooking.  Even the dwarves couldn’t complain about the bread, for it was incredibly delicious, sweet and nutty at the same time.  Kurt was surprised by how little of the bread it took to fill him, and how he ceased wanting to eat it as soon as he was full.  He rather suspected that it was some magic of the elves that made this so, as his appetite had never been daunted so easily before.

 

Comfortably full and finally beginning to warm up, Kurt felt himself beginning to doze off.  The dwarves were also drowsing in various corners, huddled in small groups to maintain warmth.  Kurt sidled up to the group containing Brittany, Quinn, and Santana, receiving nothing more than a sleepy mutter from Quinn and a brief side-eyed look from Santana.  He noticed that Rachel was giving him an affronted look, but he simply turned his back on her, unwilling to sacrifice the warmth simply to please her.  He did his best to settle in as comfortably as possible, not quite part of the dwarves’ pile but alongside of it, tucked into Quinn’s back.

 

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep, but a strange grating sound startled him awake into the faint light of the still raging thunderstorm.  He contemplated going back to sleep, but something inside him said that things weren’t right.  Instead of rolling over, he sat up and looked around.  At first, he couldn’t figure out what was off, even though all of his instincts were screaming at him that something was.  It was the flicker of a tail at the back of the cave that alerted him to the problem, and he was quick to jump up, shouting “The ponies!”

 

The dwarves all came awake at once, in a rabbling mess that created more chaos than it solved.  Kurt tried to push his way through them, getting bounced off of them every step of the way.  Still, he was only a few short steps away from where he’d seen the ponies disappearing when suddenly goblins popped out of the invisible crack, whole hordes of them, more than enough to overcome them all, and more.  Kurt tried to backpedal between the dwarves, but one of the goblins seized his ankle, and he fell to the ground, screaming as he was dragged into the opening by two goblins.  He reached out helplessly for William, who looked heartbroken for a moment, and then... _disappeared_.  Kurt gasped, and flailed madly, trying to get back to the wizard.  He was carried away on a river of goblins, however, as were the dwarves, with the goblins taking away their weapons as they carried them.

 

They were descending at a rapid pace, the goblins singing a rather horrible song about life in the goblin city.  Kurt tried his best to ignore them, focusing on the twists and turns they’d taken in an effort to memorize the path back to the surface.  It was hopeless, however, as he lost track a few minutes into their journey, becoming dizzy with how often he was being passed from hand to hand and turned head over feet and back.  He was so relieved when he was finally set down that it took him a long moment to realize that his situation had actually only become worse.  The goblins had left him in a giant cavern, lit by a large fire, and full of goblins, all of whom were staring at them as though they were the next thing on the menu.  Kurt wasn’t sure if goblins ate dwarves and hobbits, but he was very certain that he didn’t want to have to find out first-hand.  The dwarves were soon deposited beside him, and he scurried himself into their midst, hoping that he would be safer with them than on his own.

 

He didn’t feel quite so safe when a goblin grabbed one of his arms and tied his wrist to Brittany’s, especially when the group of them were then dragged to one side of the cavern.  They were deposited in front of a morbidly massive goblin, whose ponderously large head turned to survey them with one beady eye.

 

“So, Rachel Berry,” the creature boomed.  “What an honour to have you as a guest in our halls.”  His tone of voice was unctuous and yet threatening at the same time, and his words sent a frisson of fear up Kurt’s spine.  He looked at Rachel, who was staring up at the goblin with a look of pure hatred and anger.

 

“We found them on the front porch,” one of the goblins said, shoving Puck in the back when he tried to stand.

 

“And what did you mean to do, on our property?  Are you spies?  Thieves?  Assassins?  You were up to no good, I’d warrant.  Well, what do you have to say for yourselves?”  The Great Goblin leaned forward, and the goblins drew in a few steps closer, clearly anticipating their chance at the members of the Company.  Kurt wasn’t entirely sure where the antagonism of the goblins came from, but it was very clear to him that it was a personal vendetta, not just a matter of a hatred for dwarves in general.

 

“We are none of those,” Rachel said in a dignified manner, drawing herself up as straight as she could when she had one hand tied to Artie and the other to Mercedes.  “We were merely trying to escape from the storm in what we thought was an unoccupied cave.  No insult or inconvenience to you was intended.”  She bowed slightly, but straightened in offense when the goblins all laughed loudly.

 

“I would ask why you were passing through my mountains at all, where you were coming from or going to, but I do not care.  I know someone who will pay a pretty price for your head - just that, nothing attached.  Perhaps you know of whom I speak?  A pale Orc astride a white Warg?”

 

“Jesse,” Rachel hissed, her eyes flashing in anger.  “He was destroyed, killed in battle long ago.”  The Great Goblin laughed even more heartily at that, grinning with all his sharp teeth bared when he finished laughing.

 

“So you think he is done, do you?”  He turned to another goblin.  “Send word to him.  Tell him I have his prize.”  The goblins all howled mightily, and set about pushing the dwarves further into the cavern.

 

“Wait!” the Great Goblin howled out before they had gone too far.  “First, let us see what they have on them that we may wish to have.”  The goblins brought them back and began casting their weapons and gear onto the ground in front of throne, searching each of them mercilessly as they did so.  Suddenly one of them gave a hissing scream and held out Thorin’s sword.

 

“I know that sword!” the Great Goblin cried out when his eyes fell upon it.  “That is the Goblin-Cleaver, the Biter.  You are worse than I thought.  Elf-friends!  Murderers!”  He began to lumber down from his throne, advancing on their Company threateningly.  “Slash them!  Beat them!   _Kill_ them!”  From the way he was approaching, his mouth open and teeth gnashing, it seemed that he would be the one to carry out his own orders.  However, he was interrupted by the fire flaring into a tall column of flame, scattering debris and sparks around the cavern.  Kurt ducked back behind the dwarves again, peering out from around Brittany to see what was happening.

 

The sparks had mostly landed on various goblins, and they were all howling and screeching at one another, some rolling and others slapping at themselves in an attempt to put out the fires that were spreading in what passed for their clothing.  Smoke was pouring from the remains of the fire, immobilizing any goblins not dealing with their own smouldering by making it nearly impossible to breathe or see. They stumbled about drunkenly, and whenever two ran into one another, they fell to fighting.

 

Suddenly there was a flash of blue-white light, visible even through the dark, and an odd thudding sound, then the head of the Great Goblin rolled to a stop just in front of Rachel’s feet.  Kurt stared at it in horror, not entirely willing to process what a head with no body attached meant.  He wasn’t given long to think about it, for within moments William’s voice came from right beside him, whispering harshly that they were to follow him.  Kurt was quickly boosted onto Brittany’s back by Finn and Puck, who were just on the other side of her.  The dwarf grunted slightly at having his weight deposited on her back, but once she had him adjusted, she was quick to follow after the others, who had already begun to move.

 

Once they were a fair distance away, William’s staff began to glow, faintly illuminating their surroundings, allowing them to move more easily.  Kurt was beyond relieved to see the wizard, though he couldn’t help but wonder why it had taken him so long to show himself.  Still, his presence was welcomed by all of them, especially once he took long enough to use his sword to cut their bonds and then redistributed their weapons amongst them.  Kurt was moved to Finn’s back, as he was far stronger than Brittany, and before he had more than a moment to catch his breath and buckle on the small sword that Gandalf had given him many days prior, they were off again.  At first, Kurt tried to keep an eye on their path and the one behind them, but the low lighting and speed of their movement eventually made him dizzy, and he had to bury his face in the back of Finn’s cloak, closing his eyes tightly against the nausea.

 

They ran onwards into the tunnels and passageways of the goblin lair, following William with blind trust for they had no other choice.  Kurt was glad for the fact that the dwarves were so strong, for even with their short legs they were far faster than he could even hope to be.  He clung tightly to Finn’s back, trying his best to keep his limbs out of the way and his weight evenly balanced so as not to be a problem.  Despite their pace, however, the goblins were still faster, and soon enough there were the sounds of goblins screeching and their feet slapping on the stone floors.  Red-gold light flickered on the walls from the torches the goblins were carrying, casting terrifying shadows on the walls.

 

Kurt was surprised to see William and Rachel drop back to the end of the group.  He struggled to look back over his shoulder, even as Finn continued to race ahead, and saw the wizard and the princess settle themselves into a defensive stance just around a blind corner, their swords drawn and glimmering with a faint blue light.  What he didn’t see was the goblins scrabbling to a halt as soon as they saw the swords, but he could hear them screeching about “the Biter and the Beater” and then the noises of them scuffling.  Before long, William was overtaking Finn again, hurrying to the fore of their group to lead them out of the mountain, Rachel trailing at his heels.

 

What none of them was expecting was for the goblins to choose to come at them in a clever way, by muffling their feet and choosing only the swiftest and the slyest goblins to trail them and pick them off one by one.  Of course, the glow of William’s staff made them stand out quite clearly to the goblins, who were accustomed to near-perfect darkness, and they were easy targets for the creatures.

 

Kurt hardly had the time to gasp as he felt long, bony fingers gripping his coat and Finn’s arms before he was tumbling off the dwarf’s back and down off the side of the trail they had been following.  His scream as he fell down, bouncing off the steeply inclined wall, was cut off when his head hit a rock, and he knew no more.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

 

It was so dark when Kurt awoke that he worried for several long moments that the blow to his head had caused him to lose his vision.  He panicked initially, but eventually his good sense returned and he reasoned that regardless of the state of his sight, he had to find his way out of the mountain, wherever he might be inside it.  With that in mind, he began to crawl slowly and carefully over tumbled rocks and slick sheets of slate, until he found himself in what seemed to be a smooth tunnel.  He worried slightly that it was used by the goblins on a frequent basis and he was about to put himself back in their hands, but he knew that he had to follow it, as it was his best hope at a way back to the surface.  With that in mind, he groped his way along it step by step, feeling in front of him with every inch.

 

He spent a good five minutes slowly traversing the tunnel before he felt something odd under his hand.  It was cold and round, and when he picked it up, he could feel that there was a hole in the middle.  He was unsure of how a ring - or was it a very odd sort of coin? - got down into the bowels of the mountain, but he slipped it into his pocket nonetheless, figuring that if nothing else, it would be a nice souvenier.  In doing so, his arm brushed by the hilt of his short sword, and he drew it without thinking about it.  It was shining with a faint blue glow, and his initial thoughts were of relief that he hadn’t actually lost his sight.  It took him a moment before he remembered that the glow of the sword was caused by proximity to goblins, which meant that while he wasn’t in any danger of being captured immediately, he was still within their reach.  With that in mind, he continued along the tunnel, although now he moved by the light cast by the sword, hoping that it wasn’t bright enough to attract the attention of any goblins before he could hear them.

 

There were branchings in the tunnel, but he chose not to take any of them, afraid that they might lead him astray and take him somewhere he did not wish to be.  It was dispiriting to him to notice that he was steadily heading downwards, but the tunnel he was in was larger and smoother than any of the outjuts, and so he steadily followed it, trusting that it would lead him where he wished to go.  It felt like hours and days passed down there in the near-dark, but still he moved onwards, stopping only occasionally for a few brief moments of rest.  In fact, he was so accustomed to trekking at a steady pace that he didn’t notice that the sword’s light was dimming until he stepped into a pool of water, having been unaware until that moment that it was there.  He held the sword up, squinting to see as much as he could in its dimmed light, but he could not determine whether he stood on the verge of a river, pool, or proper lake.  He could hear faint dripping sounds from far off in the cavern he was now in, however, which said to him that he was likely on the verge of a lake of some fair size.

 

He could not swim, and even if he could, he could not stomach the thoughts of the sorts of things that were likely to be swimming about in a subterranean lake, great white fish with blind eyes, or eels that glowed faintly with their own electricity.  Just thinking of them was enough to give him the shudders, and so he stood for several long minutes on the rocky shore, contemplating what his next move should be.  He could feel some faint malevolence coming from across the lake - or, perhaps, from its center - and so he did not especially want to go further into the cavern, whether by skirting the edges of the lake or following the cavern wall.  He couldn’t be sure, after all, that there was any way into or out of the place other than the tunnel he had just taken, and he knew that he wouldn’t survive down there for very long.  However, the fish and eels that so disgusted him to think of were potential food, and the lake offered water, which might or might not be drinkable but was the first he had come across in his hours in the dark.

 

As he stood there thinking, he began to hear the faint sounds of splashing, as though something were paddling in the water.  Moments later, the sound was joined by a faint low hiss and then a strange noise, rather like a low rumbling combined with two boulders grinding together.  Fear lanced through him, and he grabbed the hilt of his sword, putting his back to a large rock and holding the blade out in front of him, desperately searching through the blackness beyond its faint glow for whatever beast was making such sounds.

 

“Bless us and splash us, Precious.  That looks a choice feast.”  The voice came from above him, and he startled and whirled, stumbling back a few steps as the creature jumped down from the top of the rock and advanced on him.  Kurt was quick to duck forward as soon as he’d regained his balance, pressing the sword against a bare throat.

 

“Stay back!” he said, making his voice as threatening as he could, though he rather thought that he sounded as frightened as he actually was.  Still, he held the blade steadily, though he let the creature back away until it was no longer in immediate danger of being impaled.

 

“What is it, Precious?” the creature asked, beginning to circle Kurt, who turned with it to keep his sword between him and it.

 

“My name is Kurt Hummel,” Kurt responded.  “I am a hobbit, from the Shire.”  He wasn’t entirely sure why he was giving the creature such detail, but he was too busy focusing on keeping it at bay to really try to control himself.

 

“We’ve never tried hobbitses before, Precious,” the creature said, inching forward again.  “Is it tasty?  Is it juicy?  Gollum.”  Kurt startled at the odd noise he had heard before, but held the sword out again as the creature took another step forward.

 

“No more of that,” he told it firmly.  “Stay well away.  I don’t want any trouble, just to get out of here.”  The creature’s head lifted and it made that odd “gollum” sound in the back of its throat as it thought.  Kurt decided to call it Gollum in his own head, for he felt guilty thinking of it as nothing more than a creature.  With a name, it became a he, and something of a person, even if he was quite the unusual one.

 

“Is it lost?” Gollum asked finally.  “We knows safe paths for hobbitses, safe paths in the dark!”  Kurt dropped the sword a bit, looking closely at Gollum, hoping to determine if he was plotting anything or being honest.

 

“Will you take me, then?” Kurt asked.  Gollum began to nod, with a happy expression on his face, then he darkened and began to mutter to himself.  “Look,” Kurt said, not entirely sure that he should be interrupting but more than ready to be gone from this place.  “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but either take me to the safe path out of here or tell me that you won’t.”  He wasn’t expecting Gollum to brighten up again, nearly clapping his hand with excitement.

 

“Play? We loves to play, doesn’t we, Precious? Does it like games? Does it? Does it? Does it like to play games?”

 

“Maybe?” Kurt answered hesitantly, unsure of what he was getting himself into.  Gollum clapped again then settled himself on a rock, looking up at Kurt expectantly.  “You go first,” Kurt offered, unsure of what Gollum was looking for.

 

“What has roots as nobody sees, is taller than trees, up, up it goes, and yet never grows?” Gollum recited with a look of complete concentration on his face.  Kurt relaxed slightly - he was good at riddles, and he was sure that he could amuse Gollum enough to earn his passage.

 

“That’s easy,” he said with confidence.  “A mountain.”

 

“Does it guess easy? It must have a competition with us, Precious! If precious asks, and it doesn’t answer, we eats it, gollum. If it asks us, and we doesn’t answer, then we does what it wants, eh? We shows it the way out, yes!”  The sly hissing voice was back, and Gollum’s words sent shivers up Kurt’s spine.  Still, he couldn’t do anything but agree, given that he had no idea how else to find his way out.

 

“Alright,” he agreed reluctantly.  Here’s mine then.  Thirty white horses on a red hill. First they champ, then they stamp, then they stand still.”  It was an old one, but the first thing that came to his mind, and much to his surprise, it seemed to have stumped Gollum, at least for the time being.  He kept opening his mouth as though to answer and then shutting it again and looking puzzled.  Just as Kurt was beginning to hope that he might have won on his opening salvo, however, Gollum’s face brightened.

 

“Teeth!  Yes, teeth, Precious.  But we only has nine.  Our turn.  Voiceless it cries, wingless flutters, toothless bites, mouthless mutters.”  It was a new one to Kurt and he had to think about it for a moment, humming over potential options.  It didn’t take him long, though, as a light breeze blew by from somewhere and prickled the back of his neck.

 

“Wind,” he answered, not needing Gollum’s snarl to confirm that he was right.  He brought his sword up again as Gollum crept closer and quickly pummeled his brain for another riddle.

 

“Alright.  A box without hinges, key, or lid.  Yet golden treasure inside is hid.”  The riddle had Gollum sitting back on a rock, entirely absorbed in solving it and giving Kurt the time to put a bit more distance between them.  He had expected it to be a simple task, simply a few moments of diversion, but as the minutes passed, he once again began to have hope.

 

“Well?” he asked after what felt like an eternity.  “Give up?”

 

“Give us a chance,” Gollum wailed at him, beating the ground with his fists.  Kurt was about to call the game when Gollum suddenly sat upright and bared his few remaining teeth at him in a horrific grin.

 

“Eggsses, Precious.  Eggsses it is.”  His eyes glimmered at Kurt in the faint light, seeming eerily detached from the rest of him.  “All things it devours, birds, beasts, trees, flowers. Gnaws iron, bites steel, grinds hard stones to meal.”

 

This one stumped Kurt, and he was afraid to show as much to Gollum, so he made great pretense of checking the area, though really he was stalling for time.  The charade didn’t last long, and soon Gollum was trailing him, hissing soft words to himself.

 

“Is it tasty? Is it scrumptious? Is it crunchable?”  Gollum reached out a long-fingered hand to grab at Kurt, who swiftly turned to bat him away with the sword.

 

“Let me think.  I gave you a good long while.”  He retreated a bit again, but he could tell by the way Gollum watched him that he wasn’t going to have much more time before the creature jumped him.

  
“Time!” he shouted, as Gollum coiled himself for a leap, suddenly realizing what the answer must be.  He nearly fainted with relief as Gollum collapsed on the ground, clearly disappointed.  But he was too busy being relieved to even think of another riddle, and Gollum was now looking at him expectantly.

 

“It’s got to ask us a question, Precious, yes, yess, yesss. Just one more question to guess, gollum,” he half-sang, creeping forward towards Kurt with intent.  Kurt took a few steps back and held out the sword, trying desperately to think with a mind gone blank.  Gollum reached out for him again, and this time managed to get a grasp on the hem of Kurt’s coat.  Kurt ripped himself away, struck out with the sword and then reached down to check on his coat.  As he did so, he felt an odd hardness in the one pocket.

 

“What have I got in my pocket?” he mused out loud, not remembering at the moment the ring he had picked up.

 

“That’s not fair. It’s not fair! It’s against the rules!  Ask us another one.”  Kurt turned to see Gollum throwing a rock at the ground in clear frustration, and a frisson of fear wormed its way through him again.  He’d forgotten the danger Gollum posed, and had turned his back on the creature.  Still, he seemed to have him in a bind, and he wasn’t about to give up that power now, however unfair it might be.

 

“No, no, no, no. You said ‘Ask me a question.’ Well, that is my question. What have I got in my pocket?”  Then, deciding to be kind, he allowed, “I’ll even give you three guesses.”  He doubted that Gollum could get it right even with three guesses, which was rather the point, but it at least gave him a sporting chance.

 

“Handses!” Gollum shouted after a moment.  Kurt looked down at the hand he’d just removed from his pocket, and shook his head in relief.

 

“Wrong.  Guess again.”

 

“Knife?”  The guess was far less certain this time, but still Gollum looked up hopefully after he’d shouted it.

 

“Wrong again.  Last guess.”  Kurt tried to keep his voice calm, to hide the triumph he felt.  There was no way Gollum would think to guess a ring, and that meant he would have his guide, even if it had taken him bending the rules more than a little.  With that in mind, he did his best to be patient, but after several long moments had passed and Gollum had done nothing but pace and mutter to himself, he decided to press things.

 

“Come on,” he prompted.  When Gollum still didn’t say anything, he pushed it a little further.  “Time’s up!”

 

“String - or nothing!”  It was a desperate cry, and Kurt couldn’t even take pleasure in telling Gollum that both were wrong.  The creature was already wailing and beating the ground, screaming unintelligible words.  Still, he knew he had to get out of the mountain and find his companions, and so he tried to gently remind the creature of his promise.

 

“I won the game, you promised to show me the way out,” he said, taking a small step forward.  Gollum’s head shot up, and he stared at him with an evil look.

 

“Did we say so, Precious? Did we say so?” he hissed, beginning to advance on Kurt, who stumbled back as quickly as he could.“What _has_ it got in its pocketses?”  Kurt quickly brought his sword up to fend off the creature, feeling behind him with his free hand to at least help ensure he didn’t back into any rocks.

 

“That’s no concern of yours,” he said, his voice shaking.  “You lost.  Now show me the way out”

 

“Lost? Lost? _Lost_?”  Gollum was advancing again, but suddenly he began to pat at his side, and in an instant he went from menacing to terrified, spinning around in circles and searching the ground madly.  “Where is it? Where is it? No! Ahh! Where is it? No! No!!!”  His search radius was getting wider, taking him as far as the edge of the lake, where he splashed through the shallows, still crying about... something.

 

“Lost! Curses and splashes, my precious is lost!”  Kurt wanted to ask what he had lost, but at that moment, his hand fell upon the ring in his pocket again, and he got the inkling that that might be what the creature was talking about.  He stuck his hand in his pocket, playing with the ring as he stepped up closer to Gollum.

 

“What have you lost?” he asked, hoping that it wasn’t the ring, though he had no real reason to keep it.  Perhaps the creature would think he had stolen it, rather than simply finding it and not knowing whom to return it to, he reasoned.

 

“Mustn't ask us! Not its business! No! Gollum, Gollum,” the creature replied, practically curling himself into a ball at the edge of the water, sobbing to himself.  Until suddenly, he stopped, and he looked up at Kurt in sudden anger.“What has it got in its nasty little pocketses?” he asked, hissing angrily.  Kurt clutched the ring in his pocket with one hand while bringing his sword around to bear with the other, ready to defend himself - and the ring, though he could not have said why.

 

“He stole it,” Gollum whispered, then looked up and began to scream.  “He stole it! Ahh! HE STOLE IT!”  Kurt saw that Gollum meant to murder him, regardless of their agreement, so he turned and ran blindly back up the dark passage, keeping close to the wall and feeling it with his left hand.  In order to keep from losing the ring, he allowed it to slip onto his finger, clenching his fist tightly once it was one so as not to have it shake loose.

 

He could hear the hissing, panting breaths close behind him, and turned only to see Gollum’s eyes come up the slope behind him.  He tried to run faster, only to trip over a small snag in the rock, falling to the ground heavily with his sword beneath him.  He curled up around it, preparing to be caught and killed by Gollum, only to have his footsteps pass over and then beyond him.  Kurt feared that it was some sort of trick, so he stayed still for several long moments, but eventually had to look up to ascertain what was going on.

 

Gollum was standing where one of the side tunnels branched off, muttering and cursing to himself.  Kurt couldn’t understand how the creature hadn’t seen him.  He had to have far better vision in the dark than Kurt himself, but Kurt could see him quite clearly at the moment.  What could it mean?  He wasn’t given the time to think of it, as with a final muttered curse, Gollum was off again, down the side tunnel this time.  Kurt heaved himself back to his feet and set about following the creature.  Perhaps if he followed him, Gollum might lead him to some way of escape without meaning to.  He certainly couldn’t simply go back down to the lake, and attempting to find his way out without any guide was liable to make him lost at the very best.

 

He followed Gollum for quite a long way, until he came to a cross-roads of tunnels and had to halt, unsure of where to go, for he had lost sight of the creature.  As he stood there, puzzling out the direction he should take, he began to hear voices, as though two creatures were having a conversation.  He identified the tunnel they were coming from and crept down it, careful to peek around each curve to ensure that he didn’t get seen.  Finally, he was close enough to hear the words actually being spoken.  It sounded as though Gollum was speaking to another creature with the same manner of speech but a slightly different voice, which seemed unlikely to him.  Risking being spotted, Kurt ducked his head around a curve only to see Gollum all by himself, clearly talking to himself.

 

“It’s off to the back-door.  To the back-door, that’s it,” the first voice said, the harsher of the two.

 

“The goblinses will catch it then.  It can’t get out that way, precious,” the second responded, still sly and showing clear anticipatory enjoyment of his presumed pain and suffering.

 

“Yes, but if it’s got the present, our precious present, then goblinses will get it, gollum!  They’ll find it, they’ll find out what it does.  We shan’t ever be safe again, never, gollum!  One of the goblinses will put it on, and then no one will see him.  He’ll be there but not seen.  Not even our clever eyeses will notice him; and he’ll come creepsy and tricksy and catch us, gollum, gollum!”  The first voice was torn between being upset and being angry, now.

 

“Then let’s stop talking, precious, and make haste.  If the Baggins has gone that way, we must go quick and see.  Go!  Not far now.  Make haste!”

 

Kurt heard Gollum’s feet slapping against the floor so he sprung up to follow him, turning over what the creature had said in his mind.  It seemed that he had found a magic ring, one that turned a being invisible as long as it was worn.  Such things were common, in the old tales, but he had never met someone who had seen one with their own eyes.  Still, there was no denying the results of the ring - Gollum had passed him by without seeing him, despite the creature’s keen eyes.  Kurt could only thank his good luck that he had found the ring, for if Gollum’s other mutterings were to be believed, he was being led straight to the back door out of the mountain without the creature even knowing it.

 

Indeed, after several more twists and turns, Kurt began to saw light that wasn’t coming from his sword, which had been increasing steadily as they hurried along the tunnel.  Unfortunately, it seemed that something had frightened Gollum, for he was crouched in the opening where the tunnel they were in let out into a larger one, one filled with bright sunlight.  Half-hidden in the shadow of the rock, he was hard to distinguish from his surroundings, and Kurt had to skid to a halt when he saw him to stop from running right over him.  The sound of his feet on the ground was quite audible, and Kurt saw the moment that Gollum registered what it must mean.

 

The creature turned, snarling, and began to coil himself for a leap that would, given the shape of the tunnel, inevitably have him run directly into Kurt in some form or fashion.  The hobbit wasn’t entirely sure what prompted him, but before he could think twice, he was launching himself in his own leap, clear over Gollum’s head, though he felt his toes brush the top of the creature’s head.  He landed with a stumble, but was running as soon as he regained his feet, pelting down the tunnel towards freedom.  Behind him, he could hear Gollum shouting in agonized rage, but he was too focused on the opening he could see in front of him, framing blue sky, trees, and the warm light of the afternoon sun.   He ran towards it with all the speed he could put on, bursting out into the open air and half-running half-stumbling his way down the side of the mountain until he was safely hidden amongst the trees.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

 

Kurt knew that he was completely lost, but he didn’t dare stop, out of fear that someone might catch him, whether it be goblins or Gollum.  He tried to keep himself going generally down the side of the mountains, weaving through the trees of the thick forest that carpeted the lower reaches of the mountain, but there were times that he had to divert to one side or another due to gaping chasms or great heaps of rock that blocked his path.  The entire time he kept his ears and eyes open, hoping for some sign of the dwarves.  He knew by the fact that the sun was falling towards the horizon behind the mountains that he was on the east side of the range, which was where they had intended to end up, but without food, water, or anything beyond the clothes on his back and the sword at his side, he wasn’t going to be able to wait for them to find him.  If he didn’t find them, or someone else, by nightfall... well, he wasn’t sure what he would do, but he was fairly certain he wouldn’t do well.

 

The sun was nearly gone, and Kurt was contemplating climbing all the way back up to the caves to search for the rest of the Company when he finally saw - or rather, heard - signs of life.  The voices drifting up through the trees were far enough away to be indistinct, but they were low and rumbling, which gave him hope that they might belong to the dwarves.  He still took a moment to slip the ring on, feeling much safer once he was invisible, then crept down through the forest until he found himself on the top of a small cliff, with the dwarves and William in the valley below him.  He felt a flood of relief at the sight of them, and nearly jumped down to join them, though he was stopped by the realization that he would likely break his legs if he attempted to do so.  He was investigating the cliff, trying to find a way down, when the sound of his own name caught his ear, and he stopped moving, watching in interest as William quickly brushed the dwarves aside.

 

“Where is Kurt?  Where is our hobbit?” the wizard cried, and the dwarves turned to each other, though it was clear that he was not among them.

 

“He’s lost,” Tina said, her voice full of disappointment and yet a slight bit of pleasure that Kurt couldn’t quite explain.  He felt hurt by it, for it seemed to imply that the dwarves had been right about him not being fit for this journey, even though he had persevered so far and even been of some help.

 

“He was with Finn,” Matt said accusatorily, pointing to the dwarf in question.  “Until Finn dropped him, at least.”

 

“Why did you drop him?” William asked, whirling on the dwarf.  “He is my friend, and I feel responsible for him.  Even if you think that he is of no use, I know better.  If we retrieve him, you will thank me before this is all over.”

 

“He is hardly worth retrieving!” Rachel interjected sharply.  “I doubt he is even truly missing.  Instead, I believe that your hobbit saw his chance for escape and he took it.  He’s thought of nothing but his home since he first stepped out his door.  He is long gone, and we will not be seeing him again.”  Kurt huffed sharply and began to clamber down the cliff off to one side of the valley, using his anger as motivation to brave the descent.  It wasn’t as difficult as he had feared when looking at it from above, and within a few moments his feet were touching the ground at the top of a small hill on the edge of the valley.  Below him, he could still hear the Company arguing about his whereabouts, and a fiendish part of him decided to surprise them by appearing amongst them, rather than stepping out from behind a tree, as he’d first planned.  With that in mind, he crept past Mercedes and Rory, who had been posted on guard, and tucked himself in the shadow of a boulder in the midst of their gathering, waiting for the right time.

 

He didn’t have to wait long, because Finn was busy defending himself, and managed to bemoan the loss of the Company’s burglar almost before Kurt got himself settled.  He quickly slipped the ring off his finger and into his pocket, then stepped forward into the light, already grinning at his prank.

 

“No need to worry,” he said, nearly laughing out loud at their surprise.  “Here I am!”  He was prepared for all of them to yell at him in anger, but instead he was tackled by first Sam and then Rory a few moments later, both of them yelling in glee instead of anger.

 

“How did you get past the goblins?” Tina asked suspiciously, once the two young dwarves let Kurt sit up.

 

“How did you get past me?” Mercedes asked, her face somewhere between intrigued and disappointed.

 

“I just crept along, carefully and quietly, and used the trees and the shadows to my advantage,” Kurt told her, reluctant to let the dwarves find out about the ring, for some reason.  He justified it by reasoning that his lie would hopefully encourage the dwarves to trust in his abilities, rather than constantly doubting them.

 

“How you came to be here doesn’t matter,” Rachel said, waving a hand at the dwarves sharply to silence them.  “I want to know _why_ you came back.”  There was a hint of vulnerability in her voice, enough to have Kurt want to be honest with her, rather than deflecting her question.

 

“I know you doubt me,” he said, holding up a hand to forestall the comment he saw on her lips.  “I know you always have. And you’re right, I often think of Bag End. I miss my books. And my armchair. And my garden. See, that’s where I belong. That’s home. And that’s why I came back, because you don’t have one. A home. It was taken from you. But I will help you take it back if I can.”

 

He was trembling by the time he finished, but he felt better in many ways, like a diseased part of his body had been excised.  Rachel was staring at him blankly, as were the rest of the dwarves, none of them seeming to know what to say.  William gazed out over the lot of them with the air of a kindly grandfather who has seen his grandchildren cease fighting.

 

“We should be getting on,” the wizard eventually said, after they had spent several long moments in contemplative quiet.  When night comes, the goblins will undoubtedly be after us, and it is already afternoon.  They can track us by scent, so we should be many miles away by the time night falls.  So long as the weather stays fine, there shouldn’t be clouds so we can continue to travel by moonlight for a few hours as well.”  They all sighed and gathered up what few supplies they had left, mostly blankets that had been used as cloaks and their weaponry.  Kurt sighed all the more heavily on realizing that he would not be getting to eat, as his stomach was reminding him rather loudly that he had not eaten for at least a full day.  He did his best to ignore it, though he darted out from the group a few times to fetch handfuls of edible plants that he recognized.  Soon enough, Rory, Sam, and Artie all realized what he was doing and took to following suit and grabbing what little there was to eat in order to soothe their aching bellies.

 

Eventually, they came to a slope covered in loose stone, the path of a great landslide from years gone by.  Kurt would have chosen to go around it, but William looked at it with satisfaction and led them straight down it, heedless of the stones that he knocked loose.  When the dwarves followed him, they dislodged even more pieces, and soon the Company was moving in and with a great river of bouncing, rolling stone, all of them doing their desperate best to keep upright despite the impacts of everything from tiny pebbles to small boulders.  Kurt was ushered to the center of the group once the heavier stones began to fall, as the dwarves knew that he could not handle the impacts they bore with stoicism, but he still felt numerous bruises forming on his feet and legs from the rocks that still made their way through.

 

They reached a stand of pine trees before they were to the point of not being able to keep to their feet, but it was a near thing, and they all had to hide in and behind the trees until the last of the rocks had settled, leaving an even more treacherous slope behind.

 

“There!” William said, sounding quite pleased with himself.  “Any goblins tracking us will have quite the job to come down that, and they will not be able to do so quietly.”

 

“Yes, but they would easily be able to send rocks down to injure us,” Quinn pointed out, and the rest of them murmured agreement.

 

“That is why we are going to turn aside here, away from the path of the rockslide,” William said, patient humour in his voice.  “But we must hurry, for we are beginning to lose the light.”  Indeed, the sun had begun to sink below the mountains, and although the plains far beyond were still bathed in light, they stood in more shadow than sun.  Once again they all sighed but resumed their march without complaint, recognizing the wisdom in the wizard’s words.  They moved as quickly as they were able, though they were often slowed by bracken or low-lying bushes that obstructed the path that they wished to take.  Kurt kept himself moving as steadily as possible, fearing that if he were to stop, he would never be able to get himself moving again.

 

The sun was truly down and the moon up by the time they emerged on a rocky precipice crowned with a small copse of pines but otherwise barren.  Kurt looked about in vain for a way down, but he could not see one, nor could he determine why William had chosen to bring them here.  He was about to accost the wizard with questions when a low, quavering howl broke through the air, followed by a dozen more, all of them setting the hair on Kurt to prickling in fear.

 

“Quickly, now, into the trees!” William cried, the real fear in his voice spurring all of them to speeds they had not thought they were capable of in their exhaustion.  Kurt struggled to follow them up the trees they had chosen, but the branches were too high for him to reach and he was too weak to jump far enough to catch hold of them.  Still he tried valiantly, hearing the howls coming closer and closer.

 

“Finn, help him!” William called to the dwarf who was the lowest on the tree Kurt was circling desperately.  Finn began to swing himself down branch by branch, but just as he reached the lowest, a giant beast of a wolf came leaping over a pile of rock and headed directly for Kurt.  He scrabbled at his side in despair, and at the last moment managed to pull his sword, holding it out in the general direction of the creature.  He closed his eyes, feeling certain that he would not survive, only to be startled by a great force jarring his arm painfully.  He whimpered in fear but managed to pry his eyes open, only to see that the wolf had impaled itself on his sword and was dead.  He wrenched the blade free with all his strength and wiped it clean on the creature’s fur, feeling all the while like he must be hallucinating, for surely he had not killed such a massive beast.

 

“Kurt!” Finn cried from just above him, and Kurt looked up to see the dwarf dangling upside down, his arms extended towards the ground.  It was still a fair distance to jump, so Kurt clambered up on the back of the dead wolf, using the height of its shoulders to get him a few feet closer to Finn.  He gathered himself and then leapt with all his might, managing to catch hold of one of Finn’s hands with both of his, though he had to cling on desperately to keep from slipping and falling back to the ground.  The dwarf brought his other hand around to grasp Kurt’s wrist and then forcibly hauled him up into the tree.  Kurt couldn’t do anything to help, but he grasped the branch Finn had been hanging off of as soon as he could, pulling himself up the rest of the way.

 

“We need to get up higher,” Finn reminded him once he was upright again, and although Kurt sighed, he quickly submitted himself to being lifted by the dwarf, grabbing onto the next branch that came into reach and hauling himself up before scrambling out of the way so Finn could leap up and pull himself up as well.  In this way, they ascended the tree until they were at least two-thirds of the way to the top and safely out of reach of the wolves that had gathered below.  Or, as Kurt saw now that he had the time and presence of mind, the Wargs, for they were far larger than any wolves had ever been, and were oddly misshapen, with overly long legs, barrel chests, and blocky heads with intelligent eyes that showed depths of evil that Kurt could barely comprehend.

 

He could not help but worry that Orcs had found them, given that the last time they had seen the Wargs, it had been shortly after they had heard the Orcs wailing in the night, and his fear seemed to come true when great shapes came moving through the pack of Wargs to look up at the Company trapped in the trees.  Kurt had been more terrified of the idea of Orcs than he had been of any of the evils they had encountered so far, and in that moment, his fear seemed justified.  He could not look at them for too long, so he looked across the trees, just in time to see William take up a pine cone and blow on it, suddenly setting it aflame.  The wizard tossed the missile not at the Orcs, but at the Wargs, a curious action soon explained by the way the Wargs burst into a panic, racing about and knocking the Orcs over until they had to retreat from the trees.  William began to toss pinecones to each of them, which they then used to set others alight, joining in the pelting of the creatures.  It seemed to be working, until a great pale Orc came forward, snapping instructions at the others in a language Kurt could not understand.

 

He didn’t need to understand the words, as it turned out, for within moments, the Orcs were controlling the blazes, preventing them from threatening the Wargs while directing them towards the trees that he and the dwarves were in.  It didn’t take long for the dry and resinous trees to light up, and as the flames climbed, the dwarves were forced to first scale further up their trees, then leap to the next closest tree that wasn’t yet on fire.  Kurt, unable to jump the distances that the dwarves found easy, was tossed from one hand to another, and he had to bite his lip against the queasiness caused by that method of transportation.  Eventually, they all ended up in one large tree perched on the edge of the cliff.  It was surrounded by a narrow band of empty ground, which protected it against the flames, but it was rooted unsteadily in the ground, and every movement one of them made caused it to creak and groan and shake most alarmingly.

 

With the fires no longer providing any use, the Orcs scurried to put them out, then circled the tree, jeering at them and dodging the flaming missiles that the Company was still throwing at them.  The Wargs paced restlessly behind them, eyeing them up as though they were a tempting treat being held just out of their reach.  It was a hellish scene, with the flickering light from the flames lighting and then obscuring faces and the smoke throwing a haze over everything, and Kurt briefly wondered if things could get any worse for them.  No sooner had he thought that, of course, than Rachel gasped as the pale Orc that had been giving out commands stepped forward from behind the Wargs.

 

“Jesse,” she nearly hissed, her eyes wide and dark, reflecting the fire light.

 

“You smell of fear, dwarf-scum,” the Orc hissed.  “I know it well.  It is how your fathers smelled before they died.”  The words struck Rachel like arrows and she trembled fiercely enough that Kurt, a few branches above her, could feel it in the tree.  He closed his eyes and hoped against all reason for some kind of salvation, something to get them away before Rachel did anything too foolish.  He was answered by further shaking in the tree trunk and then a great cracking sound and the sudden movement of the entire tree.  He clung to his branch with all his strength, keeping his eyes closed until the movement had ceased.  He righted himself, making sure that the tree was securely underneath him, then opened his eyes and looked around.

 

The roots of the tree had given way, and now it was hanging precariously over the side of the cliff, dangling all of them out over open air.  The dwarves were also pulling themselves back up onto their respective branches, though a few of them were cursing as their handholds slipped or branches broke when they grabbed them.  Kurt wanted to crawl over and help them, but before he could even move, he saw Rachel pulling herself upright and then stalking down the length of the tree, clearly intending to go and fight the Orc, regardless of the veritable army surrounding him.

 

“Rachel, no!” he heard Tina cry, unable to go to her friend’s help as she was still struggling to stay in the tree.  Kurt heaved himself about, trying to find a safe place to put his feet so that he could stand and follow Rachel.  As he was struggling, he watched in horror as the dwarf princess unsheathed her sword, and began to race at the pale Orc, seemingly blind to the equally pale Warg that stepped up behind him.  She was only a few paces away when the Warg leapt at her, bringing her down with a loud thud.  She struggled to stand but the creature kept its paws on her, bearing down with its weight so that even her great strength could not move it.  Jesse came up alongside her, carrying a massive mace with a nonchalant air that could not quite hide the delight he was obviously feeling.  He lifted the mace easily, lining up with Rachel’s head, clearly intending to kill her.

 

“Noooo!” Kurt heard himself scream, as he suddenly found footholds and propelled himself down the tree, running full-tilt at the Orc and crashing into him with all the force he could muster.  It wasn’t enough to truly hurt him, but he knocked him off balance and drove him several steps away from Rachel, which was enough.  The Warg swivelled to follow its master, knocking the breath out of Rachel as it pushed off her chest, but leaving her free to stand.  Kurt regained his feet more quickly than Jesse and scampered backwards to join Rachel, drawing his sword and holding it out towards the mass of Orcs and Wargs that were hovering behind their leader, knowing that this would be his last stand and hoping that he could make a good showing of it.

 

He was preparing himself for a charge at Jesse and his Warg when there was a flicker of movement above his head and then a great gust of wind, one that blew the few remaining sparks of fire into a conflagration.  Kurt shielded his eyes with a free hand and looked up, only to come face to face with a great set of talons that were reaching for him.  He was frozen between the desire to fight and flee for one moment, which was just enough for the great bird bearing down on him to snatch him up and lift him up and away from the cliff, bearing him up into the sky and away from the battle.  He was about to start stabbing at the feet that enclosed him with his sword, but he chanced to see another bird flying below him - his mind idly identified it as a giant eagle - bearing William on its back.  The wizard waved up at him, clearly unhurt and more than alright with the situation, so Kurt resigned himself to being carried so ignobly, and did his best to relax into the eagle’s hold.

 

They flew for what had to have been hours, until the first pink rays of the sun touched the clouds and the ground below them began to be distinguishable.  The eagles began to stoop and circle, and one by one they deposited the company onto a high and rocky cliff, much like the one they had been taken from, except that it stood in dignified isolation, barren of all but some moss and grasses.  Kurt was the last to be placed, the eagle that carried him laying him down with as much delicacy as it had used in seizing him.  Within moments, he was crowded by the dwarves, each of them taking a turn to hug him, or pat his back or shoulder in gratitude and congratulations.  Rachel was last of all, and although she did not speak a word, there was a world of meaning in the gaze she bestowed on his before she gathered him into a warm and slightly too tight embrace.  That look told Kurt that she had reconsidered her evaluation of him and he would not hear her complain about his presence for the remainder of their journey.  It had not been his intention to win her approval with his actions, but he was grateful that he had, as they had a great deal further to go, and many more challenges to face.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

 

Their descent from the great ridge, which William called the Carrock, was made easier by steps that had been carved into the back of it, giving them a manageable, if steep, path down to the forest that encroached on the promontory.  They had briefly rested on top of it, but before long, William was chivvying them to get going, reminding them that now that the Wargs had their scent, they would eventually be able to track them down and lead the Orcs to them.  That was enough to have the group moving again, though all of them were nearly faint from hunger.  Luckily, they were allowed another brief stop when they arrived on the ground, and they used it to bring down a few squirrels and rabbits, which they quickly roasted over the fire that William reluctantly lit for them.  He waited with impatience for the meat to at least be seared before he urged them to eat swiftly and be on their way again.  It wasn’t enough food to truly satisfy any of them, but it revitalized them at least a bit, and they were more willing to get to their feet again, though they still grumbled about it.

 

The land they traversed now was made up of hills and small ridges, valleys and folds that could confound even the best trackers, but William seemed to know just where he was going, so they followed him and trusted that he would lead them somewhere that they could replenish their supplies.  Every time he allowed them to stop, they begged him to let them hunt and cook, and more often than not, he allowed it.  They were never full meals, but by taking several in one day, most of them began to regain some vigour.  They stopped once the sun had gone down, and William found them some shallow caves to rest in until the moon was sufficient to light their way.  Despite the relative comfort and safety of those caves, Kurt found that he could not sleep, for every time he closed his eyes, he worried that goblins were once again sneaking in and stealing them away.  He noticed that he was not the only one who was restless, though some of the dwarves still managed to sleep deeply, if not for long.

 

William roused them all after a few hours of rest and set them to marching again, although they moved more slowly as the light of the moon found its way through the leaves and branches fitfully, revealing and then obscuring the path with every breeze.  The night made the forest close in around them, and they all moved quickly and as silently as possible, sensing that there was danger out amongst the trees, even if the Orcs and Wargs should not have been able to catch up to them so quickly.  Kurt was more sensitive than the dwarves, and so he could have told them that the danger was not one of evil but born of a lack of knowledge, more bestial than anything else, but he was not aware that they did not know even that much.  Instead, he assumed that they trusted William as much as he did and continued on in the oppressive silence, hoping that they would come to a resting place sooner rather than later.

 

They did stop again once the moon set and they were in complete darkness, this time sleeping in the lower branches of trees, branches large enough to cradle even the largest of dwarves with something approximating comfort.  Kurt felt safer above the ground than he had when in it, and he slept deeply for the handful of hours between moonset and sunrise, only awakening when one of the dwarves shook him roughly as they climbed down out of the tree.  He followed, the last of the Company to touch down, and he was pleased to find that William had lit a fire and had several tubers roasting on stones beside it, as well as a brace of rabbits and a few squirrels spitted and roasting.  They were nearly done, and when he was handed a haunch and a tuber, he tore into them with great hunger, the sleep having restored his appetite to its usual full ferocity.

 

“We still have a fair walk ahead of us to reach the house of Somebody I know, a very great person who may help us, if her mood is right,” the wizard told them as they finished their meal.  The way he spoke made Kurt raise his eyebrow in question, but he reasoned that they needed any help they could get, even if it was from a mysterious person who was just as likely to turn them away.  He couldn’t believe that William would take them to someone who would be a true threat, though the respect that the wizard used when talking about the Somebody suggested that it was possible, if highly unlikely.  Still, Kurt resolved to be on his best behaviour and follow the wizard’s commands whenever they arrived at their destination, though he was hardly the sort to be rude to someone who was hosting him.

 

The day was once again spent in alternating bouts of hiking and breaks to breathe and eat whatever they could find.  Kurt found that he was earning the dwarves’ respect all over again, for although the bounty of the forest was different from those of the fields of the Shire, he could still recognize poisonous plants from their edible brethren and was able to direct them to the best places to find fungus, tubers, and other plants in order to fill their stomachs.  Their pace was as quick as they could manage, even with the stops, and by nightfall, they were all ready to collapse.  They had hardly settled in amongst a huddle of rocks before a loud howling set up in the distance, startling them badly and setting Rachel to swearing loudly.

 

“We must move,” William urged them, quickly kicking dirt over the fire he had just lit for them.  “They have found our trail.”  They all gathered what little they had left of their possessions and immediately set off at a swift trot, following William as he led them from the little valley they’d stopped in up to a ridge and then over it and down into the next valley.  William seemed to be leading them on a zig-zagging course through the trees, though they were heading in a particular direction from what Kurt could tell.  The howls seemed to be coming from all around them, but Kurt thought they were mostly behind them, and hoped that they would be able to make it to the house they were looking for before they were caught.  He put on as much extra speed as he could, though he still lagged behind the dwarves by a bit.

 

He was panting heavily by the time they came to a halt, throwing himself down behind a massive uprooted tree and trying to catch his breath.  He didn’t have long to do so - William grasped the collar of his shirt and half-hauled him around to the edge of the tree roots, bringing him down between himself and Rachel.

 

“We need you to go up this ridge and look to see where the Wargs and Orcs are, Kurt,” William said, with Rachel nodding her agreement.  “Go as carefully and quietly as you can, and don’t let them spot you.  Tell us where they are, and how close.”  Kurt sighed, but clambered up and around the end of the tree and then up the side of the ridge.  It was a strenuous climb, though the footing was better than many of the ridges they had climbed in the past couple of days, so he struggled up as quickly as he could but it still took several minutes and he was breathing heavily when he made it.  He took a long moment to compose himself and catch his breath, then peeked above a cluster of rocks at the top, quickly scanning the horizon for any unusual shapes highlighted in the moonlight.  He could see a few a handful of ridges away, prowling along with noses to the ground.  Or, at least, as far as he could tell, given the faint light.  He was about to duck back down when he heard a loud snarl from far closer than any of the Wargs had been.

 

He flattened himself to the ground, his heart pounding, and held his breath for as long as he could, straining to hear any signs of movement.  When there was nothing more, he slowly inched his head up again, looking around slowly.  It didn’t take him long to spot the massive shape hulking against the night sky, its head turned towards the the ridge that the Wargs had been on.  Kurt turned his head to look in the same direction and saw that they had disappeared.  As he was watching, another set of Wargs climbed up to the top of the ridge, and the creature let loose another roar, which sent them scattering.  Kurt dropped down again and began to crawl down the hill, sacrificing some speed for silence.  It was difficult to get down without sliding into anything that might either fall or snap, but he managed the best he could.

 

“Kurt, have you seen them?” William hissed as soon as he made it back around the tree.  Kurt nodded, still catching his breath.

 

“How close is the pack?” Rachel whispered to him, her brows furrowed in concern.

 

“Too close,” Kurt responded, his breath finally recovered.  “A few ridges away, no more, but that is not the worst of it.”  He quailed from saying what he had seen, afraid that they might think him mad.

 

“Have they picked up our scent?” Mercedes asked, peeking her head around Rachel to look at Kurt.

 

“Not yet, but they will; we have another problem.”

 

“What is it?” William barked, though he somehow managed to keep his voice down.  “Did they see you?”  He sounded desperate and terrified, so Kurt quickly jumped to reassure him.

 

“No, no!  That's not it.  There’s...”

 

“What did I tell you?”  William interrupted him before he could force out what he’d seen.  “Quiet as a mouse. Excellent burglar material.”  The dwarves all nodded and murmured in agreement, but Kurt waved his hands at them, trying to get them to be quiet so he could share his information.

 

“Listen to me,” he hissed sharply when they continued to ignore him.  “I'm trying to tell you there is something else out there.  Something large and potentially dangerous.”

 

“Did it look something like a bear?” William asked immediately, and Kurt found himself nodding in agreement before looking up at the wizard suspiciously.

 

"Yes. But bigger, much bigger.  How did you know that?”

 

“A wizard has ways of knowing things,” William said, the mysterious tone he took not helping with Kurt’s suspicion.  “We must hurry,” the wizard continued before Kurt could say anything.    “We have only a short distance left to go, so we may be able to make it if we move as quickly as possible.”  He didn’t give them much of a choice, hiking up his robes and beginning to trot away at a speed that they could only just match.  The group of them sat blinking for a long moment, then jumped to follow him, Finn and Puck stopping long enough to get Kurt boosted up onto Finn’s back before they too trailed the group.

 

The land flattened out in front of them, going from ridges and valleys to plains riddled by streams, which they splashed in and out of as they ran, trailing after William as he led them.  Behind them, the howls of the Wargs grew closer with every step, to the point where Kurt half wondered if they weren’t breathing down his neck.  He couldn’t see where they were going, his head buried in the hood of Finn’s cloak, but he could tell that everyone was flagging, their breathing hard at his sides and even one behind his back.  He could faintly hear William urging them on ahead, his voice thin in the night air, telling them that they were nearly there.

 

The feel of the air around him suddenly changed, and he struggled to lift his head from amongst the enveloping cloth of the hood.  Finn dropped him from his back, and he shook free, then looked around in awe.  They were in a vast wooden-walled cabin, with every piece of furniture oversized even for William.  At the back of the building were a set of open box stalls that contained a variety of animals, all of which were shuffling around and regarding them with what Kurt interpreted was shock.  Behind them, the door suddenly started to rattle, and a loud roar echoed outside.  Luckily, one of the dwarves had thought to bar the door once they were all safely inside, and although the creature outside continued to paw at it for several long moments, it was eventually turned aside.  Tina, who had been looking out one of the windows, turned to William, fear in her eyes.

 

“What is that?” she asked, her voice hushed.  All of them looked to the wizard, most of them afraid but a few, including Rachel, looked betrayed.

 

“That is our host,” William said, calmly, already making his way further into the house, setting his staff aside by leaning it up against a wall, then heading over to the giant table and beginning to sort through the assortment of bowls and plates on the top, gathering up bits and pieces of food until there was a decent collection spread out on the near end.

 

“Well, then, come eat, and then find yourselves somewhere to sleep.  We will see how Becky feels in the morning.”

 

“Becky?” Kurt asked as he took a seat on the long bench up by William.

 

“Our host,” William explained.  “She is a skin-changer.  Sometimes she is a great black bear and sometimes she is a big strong woman.  The bear is unpredictable, but the woman can be reasoned with.  In the morning, she should return to her human form, and we will ask her to protect us for a few days, and perhaps give us food and supplies.  She is not overly fond of dwarves, however, so the most we can truly hope for is a day or two of reprieve and that she will turn the Orcs and Wargs aside, and make them take the long way around to find us again.”

 

The remainder of the Company didn’t seem to be paying much attention to their conversation, though Kurt did catch the glimmer of Rachel and Mercedes’ eyes as they watched covertly.  They were all focused on the food in front of them, stuffing their faces as full as they could as quickly as they could.  Before all the food was gone, Kurt quickly gathered a plateful for himself, applying himself assiduously now that he knew that he wasn’t going to get any better answers out of the wizard.  He barely made it through what he had taken before he was beginning to nod off, the warmth and comfortable safety of the house lulling him.  He pushed away from the table and wandered back to the box stalls, finding one that was mercifully empty of animals, then collapsed into the straw, wrapping himself in his cloak as best as he could.

 

He awoke with a start to see golden sunlight filtering in through the open windows, the smell of fresh honey and cream filling the air.  It was enough to draw him up out of the nest he had created and into the main room of the cabin, where the dwarves were all gathered around the table, enjoying what looked to be a fine meal.  At the head of the table, William sat beside a massive human woman, who looked upon her guests with an odd combination of benevolence and impatience as they ate, drank, and made merry.  William spotted Kurt lingering in the doorway and waved him over to the table, patting at the bench next to him in invitation.  Kurt slid in hesitantly, not missing the fact that the dwarves had all chosen to sit as far away as possible from the woman and were eyeing her with wariness.  Still, she smiled broadly when she spotted Kurt, so he merely walked slowly, trying to play his hesitance off as simple weary drowsiness.

 

“Kurt, my boy,” William said, as soon as he was seated.  “This is our host, Becky.”

 

“Welcome, little one,” the woman said with slow deliberateness.  She seemed to move with great caution, even in her speech, a cautiousness that was explained when a giant bee landed on her shoulder.  Kurt startled slightly, not having expected the size of the insect, and then stared wide eyed as the woman dipped the tip of her finger in a smear of honey on her plate and raised it to the bee, which dipped down to it for a moment, then buzzed off again.  Becky smiled gently after the insect, and then turned her attention back to William.

 

“You need to reach the mountain before the last days of autumn?" she asked.  William nodded, leaning in closer to the great woman.

 

“Before Durin’s Day falls, yes.”

 

“You are running out of time,” Becky pointed out, following William’s example and leaning in.

 

“That is why we must go through Mirkwood,” William told her, his gaze intense.  “There is no other way that we can make it in time.”

 

“A darkness lies upon that forest.  I would not venture there except in great need.”  Becky’s voice was grim, and her brow furrowed with intensity, the darkness in her eyes telling a tale that Kurt didn’t want to acknowledge.

 

“We will take the Elven Road. That path is still safe,” William told her.  Becky snorted indelicately, her eyebrow arching in contempt.

 

“Safe?” she said contemptuously.  “The Wood-Elves of Mirkwood are not like their kin. They’re less wise and more dangerous. But that doesn’t matter.  These lands are crawling with Orcs. Their numbers are growing, and you are on foot. You will never reach the forest alive.”  She sighed loudly, then looked down the table.

 

““I don’t like dwarves,” she said darkly, glaring at Tina, who was roughly brushing a mouse away from her plate.  “They’re greedy and blind, blind to the lives of those they deem lesser than their own.”  She paused for long enough to scoop the mouse out, depositing on Kurt’s shoulder with a soft smile that turned dark when she looked back up.  “But Orcs I hate more. What do you need?”

 

“Not now, my friend,” William told her, patting her hand gently and gesturing her back to her seat.  We will speak of this later, but first, let us eat and rest, and tell you the tale of our travels so far.”

 

Kurt was surprised by how quickly they all recovered in Becky’s home, and it was only a few days later that they stood at the edge of Becky’s property, facing the woman as she brought forward ponies for each of them, laden with saddlebags full of food and supplies.

 

“Your way through Mirkwood is dark, dangerous and difficult,” she said, speaking primarily to William, though she included them all in her gaze.  “Water is not easy to find there, or food.  In fact, I doubt whether anything you find in Mirkwood will be something you can eat or drink. I know of one stream there, black and strong, and it crosses the path.  Do not drink from it or bathe in it, because it is enchanted with a spell of great drowsiness and forgetfulness.Do not stray from the path, for any reason, or you may be lost forever.”  William nodded seriously, and Rachel looked like she was listening intensely, though she kept herself behind William and the majority of the Company.

 

“That is all the advice I can give you,” Becky told them.  “Beyond the edge of the forest I can’t help you much, and you must depend on your luck and your courage and the food I am sending with you. At the gate of the forest I must ask you to send back my horse and my ponies. But I wish you all speed, and my house is open to you, if ever you come back this way again.”  She held out her hand to William, who took it and pressed it warmly.  Kurt pushed forward to take her hand once William released it, thanking her with all the warmth he could muster.  During the time they had spent in her house, he had become quite fond of her, and she of him.  They shared an interest in gardening and caring for their surroundings, and had spent many nights discussing the proper care for everything from bees to tulips.  Becky smiled warmly at him and gathered him in for an embrace rather than shaking his hand.

 

They departed with waves and shouts of thanks, though Kurt kept looking back until Becky’s figure disappeared behind a hill.  He turned himself forward, trying not to let her words drag him down, though he could see that the dwarves weren’t having much luck either.  It was hard not to feel like the adventure had become far more dangerous than he had originally expected, especially considering that even if they passed all the perils of the road, the dragon was still waiting at the end.  Still, he couldn’t see that there were anyway but forward, even if he ached to go back and hide in Becky’s warm home and comfortable gardens until he found another party with which to journey back west.

 

Once they passed the hedges that marked the boundary of the lands that Becky protected, they turned from east to north, then took a north-western bend, aiming for a smaller pathway that Becky knew of, rather than the main road that they would have taken had they come down from the mountains in the expected way and continued to travel east.  Such was not the case, and although they could have rejoined it given a few days’ ride, Becky had told them that the road was often traveled by goblin patrols, and ended up in a marsh rather than depositing them on the far side of the forest a fair ride to the south of Erebor.  There were varied mutterings from the dwarves, especially Mercedes, who could still remember that path as it had once been, but none doubted the honesty and knowledge of their host.  Instead, they steadfastly rode northward, looping around an outjut of the forest until they came to a gateway at the edge of the trees.

 

“Well, here is Mirkwood!” William said, leaning back in his saddle and looking up at the stone pillars that marked the beginning of the path with contentment, if not pleasure.. “The greatest of the forests of the Northern world. Unload the gear we have been sent with, foryou must send back these ponies you have borrowed.”  None of them were pleased with the thought but William gave them such a look of scorn that most of them constrained their complaints to mere grumbles.

 

“Do not be foolish,” William snapped, when Santana said something aloud in Dwarvish, something scornful.  “Becky was kind enough to lend us them, but she is not likely to forgive us if we do not uphold our promises, as she is a bad enemy to have.  She will likely not be far off, intending to escort them home once we have loosed them.  She cares for them as though they are her children, and would be more than displeased to have you try to take them into the forest.  Besides, you can hardly ride them in there, so you would not be much better off, and far worse once Becky caught up with you.

 

“Shall we unpack your horse, then?” Tina offered with gruff kindness, holding a hand up to William in an offer of assistance.

 

“I will not be following you into Mirkwood, and I have already informed Becky that I will be requiring the loan of this fine fellow for longer than you would need your mounts.”  William’s voice was stern, but Kurt could hear a certain sadness underlying that stern facade, a sadness that made sense when he realized what was going on.

 

“You’re leaving us then,” Rachel stated bluntly, stepping to the fore of the group.

 

“You knew I could not be with you for the entirety of your journey.  I have business in the south, and I cannot delay it any more, not for your sake, nor the sake of any other in Middle Earth.  I will see you again, before this is all done with.  Take care of Kurt, for his is the only burglar you will have.  And Kurt, do your best to take care of all of them.  I’m sure you have become quite fond of them by now, as have I.”  He nodded once to them, then wheeled his horse around and urged it off in a general southerly direction, leaving the fourteen of them standing with the herd of ponies and their packs, with no idea of what to do but continue forward.

 

Continue forward they did, taking one last chance to fill everything they could with the water from a sweet and clear spring they found just outside the line of trees.  They loosed the ponies once they had fully unpacked their saddlebags, and sent them off with well-wishes, and no few whispers of thanks on Kurt’s part.  They filled the packs they had been given with the supplies, doing their best to distribute things fairly.  Kurt thought that his was rather heavy, but looking around himself, he rather thought that most of the dwarves might say the same, were they not so stoic.  So he sighed and resigned himself to a few exhausting days and more than a few sore mornings, then fell into line.

 

“Remember,” Rachel said, as they formed up in front of the gate-stones.  “Do not leave the path for any reason.  Do not eat or drink anything that we have not brought in with us.  Never lose sight of the dwarf - or hobbit - in front of you.  If you do, shout as soon as you realize.  Hopefully we will not have gone too far ahead and will be able to retrace our steps to find you.  Understood?”  She gazed at them all sternly, waiting until she received nods from each of them before she nodded decisively herself and strode to take her place at the front of their line.

 

“Alright,” she shouted, her voice echoing back out of the forest oddly.  “The sooner we begin, the sooner we’ll be through this cursed forest.”  She led them off into the misty dimness beneath the trees, her head held high but her eyes wide and fearful.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

 

They were only a few steps into the forest before the sunlight dimmed to a green glow, far darker than that of any forest Kurt had ever been in.  The trees were old and gnarled, and every time he looked away, he had the eerie sensation that their branches were reaching for him, trying to draw him off the path and into their depths, where he would be lost until he died.  The dwarves seemed to be having similar feelings, judging by how they shuffled along with low murmurs of displeasure for the state of things.  Without William to lead them, they were all uncertain as to whether they were going the right way, but Rachel was following the path as best she could, stopping frequently to consult with Mercedes and Tina whenever there was fading in the path.  It was poorly kept, with weeds growing up through the bits of stone that marked it, and stones missing in places.

 

They shared the wood with squirrels, quick dark little things that darted in amongst the trees, flickering in and out so quickly that they were barely visible.  There were noises from the undergrowth as well, grunts and scufflings, but he couldn’t see what made them and wasn’t sure he wanted too.  The worst thing, though, was the cobwebs, dark and dense with threads extraordinarily thick, often stretched from tree to tree, or tangled in the lower branches on either side of them.  Fortunately, none of them crossed the path, though whether that was because of the elves or some magic was uncertain.

 

They trekked onwards for several days, their moods growing worse every day.  Despite the fact that they were technically outside, the forest path felt more enclosed than even the goblin tunnels had.  None of them would have gone back there, but the fact that they could not see any end in the near future made it worse, somehow.  There was no unblocked sun, though, and no wind, and so it was as though they were still surrounded by the stone, instead of the trees that actually were around them.  It was worse for Kurt than for the dwarves, for they were accustomed to living in their mountain and not emerging for months at a time, whereas Kurt made sure to get out for a while most days.  And it was worse still at night, when the light faded away into pitch blackness and the only things they could see outside the small circle of their firelight was the reflections of it in a multitude of eyes, watching from just outside their space.  It made for restless sleeping and even more restless watches.

 

The worst part, for Kurt at least, was the hunger.  They had rationed their food from the moment they stepped foot into the forest, but as the days melted into a week, their packs became slimmer and slimmer and their water levels went lower and lower, though they tried to drink no more than was necessary to wet their mouths.  They tried to hunt, but the one time Kurt managed to level a squirrel with a stone, it tasted so foul they couldn’t stand to eat it, though they tried valiantly.  So they continued, ignoring their rumbling stomachs and sore throats as best they could, steadily putting one foot in front of another in a slow weaving line.

 

They were so desperate for water that when they came across a wide, slow moving black river, they nearly dove into it face first, only remembering at the last moment Becky’s warning.  They drew back a slight distance and began to scout up and down the bank, looking for a way to get across.  They found what had once been a bridge of wood across, but it had rotted and fallen, leaving only the broken posts near the bank.  Finally, they had Finn and Quinn each take one of Kurt’s arms and lean him as far out as they could without risking him actually touching the water, and he did his best to scan the far bank.

 

“There’s a boat against the far bank!” he cried out once he spotted it.  Finn and Quinn hauled him back in and they retreated a few steps away from the river.

 

“How far away do you think it is?” Rachel asked, stalking over to them with an intense look on her face.  She tried to peer out herself, but the dark gloom of the trees made it difficult for her to see anything without risking being too near to the river.  Still, Kurt had established that he had the best eyes, so she didn’t spend much time trying to confirm the presence of the boat, but turned to him with the expectation of an answer.

 

“About a dozen yards,” he told her, taking one more look at the bank where he now knew the boat to rest.  “It’s drawn up on the shore, so if we manage to get a rope around it, we should be able to pull it over here and use it to cross.  Provided it’s water-worthy, that is.”  He felt the need to temporize, worrying that Rachel would blame him if the boat were indeed not safe to use and he had not warned her of that possibility.

 

They returned to the group and each of them opened their packs, searching for a rope long enough to reach across the river and secure the boat.  Such a rope was found in Puck’s pack, along with three great hooks which, when tied to the end of the rope, would make capturing the boat much easier.  The rope was a beautiful thing, light but strong and woven of a curious silvery material that was soft to the touch.  There were three lengths of it, each more than long enough to reach provided one of them could throw them far enough to reach the boat.

 

Sam was the only one who could see the boat well enough to even try to hit it, so he took up the hook and held it loosely while he judged the throw, then spun it around carefully several times, and then cast it in a low throw.  The hook bounced off the end of the boat and Kurt hissed in disappointment, then turned to Sam, telling him to bring the rope back in and try again.  They were all slightly worried about him touching the rope after it had been soaked in the water, but none of them wanted to lose one of the three ropes and hooks in case Sam missed again or they needed them later.  Luckily, when Sam reached the wet sections of rope, his only reaction was a look of disgust, and he continued to wind the rope up neatly so that it would unspool quickly when he threw the hook again.

 

This time he threw it too far, passing over the boat and into the brush beyond it.  With Quinn and Finn once again holding his arms, Kurt talked Sam though reeling the hook back in until he could see it caught against the gunwale of the boat.  It took some heaving and Rory’s assistance on the rope before the boat was hauled out of the soft mud of the bank, but once it was, they pulled it across with such speed that it skimmed on top of the small waves in the river.  The two dwarves hauled it in to shore and up onto their bank before letting Kurt hop in to examine it.

 

“Well, it hasn’t got any paddles, and I’m not sure that the river is shallow enough for us to pole our way across, even if we were to take the time to cut down some saplings to make poles.  None of us are skilled boatspeople anyway,” Kurt mused aloud as he clambered around the boat.  It was quite small, probably only big enough for four of them at a time, but he checked under the seats and in all the nooks and crannies nonetheless, hoping to find something that would help them get across.  There wasn’t anything there, so he hopped back out, looking to the dwarves.

 

“How will we get across?” he asked.  They looked at each other, glances full of meaning and wordless conversation, then Sam stepped up to the edge of the river again with another of the hooks and a rope in his hands.  They all held their breaths and then let them out when there came a distinctive clunk of the hook biting into some kind of wood.  Sam gave it a couple of rough tugs and then smiled and nodded decisively when it didn’t move.

 

“We’ll use this to tow it across and then one of us can pull it back with the other rope.”  Rachel clapped him on the back with a proud smile, then went to gather up the remainder of the Company.  It didn’t take long, as they hadn’t bothered to unpack anything other than a little bit of food.  Rachel divided them into groups by family, taking Kurt with her and going first, drawing them across quickly without Kurt needing to do anything other than tie the rope to the seat of the boat once they were across.  Finn and Tina hauled it back across and the process began again, with each group towing themselves across and another dwarf hauling the boat back.

 

It took nearly an hour for all of them to get across, and by the time they were done, they were all ready to rest for a while and eat a good meal, but given the state of their packs and the fact that there was still some light to see by, Rachel refused to let them rest, instead chivvying them all to their feet and back onto the path, which had resumed on the other side of the river as though it hadn’t been interrupted by a wide expanse of water.  Despite their sighs and mumbled complaints, they all stumbled along the path, doing their best to follow its meandering course even as it faded in and out of existence.

 

It wasn’t until around noon the next day that they realized that they had lost it, and the instantaneous panic that rippled through the group of them was palpable.  They had all been wandering around in a daze, trusting that Rachel would be able to lead them, and it seemed that she had failed to do so, instead getting them lost in a forest that terrified all of them.  There were no accusations thrown, but all of them gave her looks of betrayal, and her shoulders hunched up protectively.  They tried desperately to retrace their steps, but it was fruitless, and by the time the light dimmed with duskfall, they were all terribly lost and ready to give up.

 

“Someone must climb a tree and see if they can get their head up above the canopy and have a look about.  That will help us determine where we are and where we must go.”  None of them wanted to listen to Rachel, but her tone was so firm and her words so sensible that they couldn’t help but do so, even though they still blamed her for leading them astray.  As the lightest by far, Kurt was the obvious choice, and although he protested that he didn’t have the skills necessary, they still boosted him up until he could reach the lower branches, then urged him along as he climbed.  It was a slow and arduous process, but he felt better with every layer of leaves and branches that he pushed through, and so he climbed faster, trying to make it to the clean and open air as quickly as possible.

 

His head broke through the top layer of leaves and he took a deep breath, looking around in glee at the clear pink-and-blue sky that was revealed.  The eastern sky was navy, and the western burned with orange as the sun set on the horizon.  He could just see the shape of the mountain, stark black against the dark blue to the east, with a faint glimmer of light at the base of it that must be the lake.  He tried to call down the tree to let the others know, but there was no response to any of his yelling, and he began to get concerned.  He peered down the trunk as far as he could see, but the branches obscured the ground, and there wasn’t even a sign of movement.  On the ground, at least, because when he looked up, the trees on the horizon were shaking violently in a wave that seemed to be moving towards him.

 

Kurt felt a flash of alarm and tried to scramble back down the tree, but his foot slipped on a slick branch, and despite his grip on a small branch, he fell, the branch ripped out of his grip as he toppled backwards.  The scream that ripped out of his throat was stopped when he felt his back hit something soft and elastic, stopping him abruptly.  He tried to squirm over onto his stomach, but he was stuck to something that wouldn’t let go of him.  He struggled frantically, trying to rip himself away, only to freeze in horror as a monstrous spider came through the screen of branches just above him, its mandibles chittering frantically.  He screamed and the thing reared back for a long moment, before falling on him, spinning him around with its legs as spit webbing from its belly, winding him up in it.  Once he was secured, it snapped the strands that were holding him, sending him toppling down the tree again.

 

He blinked his eyes, the spots in front of his eyes slowly clearing as he regained his senses.  He’d hit his head hard as he landed, and although he hadn’t quite lost his consciousness, he had been knocked about hard, and he could still feel a faint ringing.  The noise was eclipsed by the roar of terror that filled him as another giant spider crawled over him, turning him this way and that before bending over him, its mandibles widening to bite him.  He could barely think straight, but some instinct in him remembered what he had been taught by William and the dwarves, and feeling his sword easily accessible, he fumbled it out and drove it up as neatly as he could, cutting through the webbing and plunging it into the abdomen of the spider.  The force of the spider moving carried it up and over him, one of its legs catching Kurt’s cocoon and dragging him with it.  His sword thrust had ripped through the webbing a bit, so he toppled out through the slit, luckily landing on a pile of similar webs, luckily ones that had dried enough to no longer be sticky.

 

He scrambled to his feet as soon as he reached the ground, and looked up to see a collection of cocoons hanging from the trees, presumably containing the dwarves.  He took a step towards them, but ducked back behind a tree when another spider came out from amongst the trees, startling him badly.  He fumbled his sword slightly, catching it against his thigh and pressing his wrist up against his pocket, where he felt a strange lump.  Fumbling it out, he found that it was the ring he had found in the goblin caves.  The rustling of leaves under giant legs prompted him to slip it on, hoping it worked as well against the eight eyes of the arachnids as it had on the goblins, dwarves, and Gollum.  He slowly inched out around the tree, watching the spider with each step.  It didn’t seem to notice him, but it also seemed rather focused on the hanging dwarves, so he continued to skulk towards it, carefully placing each foot so that he wouldn’t so much as rustle a leaf.

 

As he drew closer, he could begin to hear the whispering sounds the spiders made, and much to his surprise, the whisperings seemed to be words, ones that he could understand.  They were saying horrible things, things about how they wanted to kill and eat the dwarves in ways that sent shivers up his spine.  They were converging on one of the dwarves, excitedly discussing how they would consume it, so Kurt seized a large branch, flinging it as far as he could in a direction that would lead the spiders away from both himself and the dwarves.  They took the bait, all of them turning and running after the noise.  All but one, that was, which continued to advance on the dwarves, muttering about tasting whomever it chose to start with.

 

Before he even knew what he was doing, Kurt found himself running at the spider with his sword drawn, swinging it wildly as he got in range.  He managed to get a few good slashes on its rear before it turned, at which point he sliced off one leg, and then put a gash in its head.

 

“It stings! Stings!” the spider screeched, and Kurt took the creature’s distraction as an opportunity to stab it in the head, finally killing it.

 

“Sting,” he mused out loud, as he pulled his sword free and turned to the dwarves.  “That works.”  He slipped his ring into his pocket again, wiping his sword - Sting - on the side of the spider to clean it slightly before he hurried to the dwarves and began to cut them down, trying his best to cushion the slight fall and wincing every time one of them crashed to the ground.  Once they were all lowered, he went about cutting the cocoons open.  As soon as the air touched their faces, they began to awaken, first blinking their eyes blearily, and then hurriedly pawing the webbing away from their bodies to crawl out into the clearing.  Kurt watched them out of the corner of his eye, keeping the rest of his attention on the surrounding trees, watching for the spiders to come back.

 

“Let’s go,” Rachel said, brusquely, coming up by Kurt’s shoulder.  The remainder of the dwarves clustered around her, looking around wildly.  Kurt nodded to Rachel, gesturing to her to take the lead, which she did with poor grace, pushing past him roughly to lead the group of them between two trees that formed a sort of archway.  They didn’t get more than a few steps away before there was a rustling in the trees and the spiders swarmed into the clearing, and then after them again.  Within seconds, they were being separated and herded in different directions, though all of the dwarves were fighting back as fiercely as they could.  Kurt dropped back, seeing that the spiders were occupied with their very active prey, slipping behind a tree to slip his ring on again.  Once he was hidden, he found several large stones and slipped them into his pockets, then ducked again, beginning to pelt the spiders with the rocks.  The spiders were surprisingly easy to kill, the rocks plunging straight through their bodies and knocking them sideways, most of them not getting up again.

 

Kurt was about to pull the ring off again, the last of the spiders gone, when an odd sound startled him.  He looked up, and was surprised to see elves descending on a new wave of spiders, fighting separately but still in concert with the dwarves.  He threw a few more stones, but froze when one of the elves looked up, his piercing gaze locking on to where Kurt was standing.  Kurt could barely breathe with shock at the idea that he might have been seen, and it was until the elf’s brow furrowed in confusion and he looked around that Kurt realized that he couldn’t actually see him but was just intuiting his existence.  He still didn’t feel entirely comfortable resuming his involvement in the battle, so he simply kept himself to the shadows of the trees as much as possible, circling the area while trying to get closer.  The last spider went down slowly, but the elves didn’t lower their bows or swords, instead advancing on the dwarves.

 

“Do not think I won’t kill you, dwarf. It would be my pleasure,” the one that had nearly spotted Kurt hissed, his arrow trained on Rachel, who had stepped forward to meet the group of them.  Rachel sneered at him, but she didn’t move any further forward, simply continuing to glare at the elves that surrounded her Company.  The elves didn’t seem any more thrilled by the dwarves’ presence, and they kept up a steady guard on them, waiting for something, though Kurt couldn’t tell what.

 

He hadn’t noticed that they were missing one of the dwarves until another elf joined the group, dragging Rory behind her.  She pushed the dwarf in amongst the rest, then turned to the lead elf, nodding brusquely to him.  He nodded in response and beckoned to the rest of the elves, ordering them to search the dwarves.  They complied, seizing all of the weapons they could find on the dwarves, piling them into a bag that one of the elves was carrying with him.  Once they had removed all of the weapons, including a few knives that Sam had hidden about his person, they looped ropes around their hands and led them off through the trees.  Kurt followed them, moving as quickly as possible while still keeping himself hidden behind trees and in their shadows.  There were a couple of times that one of the elves at the back of the group turned to look back, searching the woods intently with their eyes, but every time, Kurt ducked back behind a tree, and within minutes the elf was moving forward again.

 

He trailed the group of them for a great distance, struggling to keep up with them when they began to move more quickly once they got beyond the spiders’ webs.  The dwarves were struggling to escape, which slowed them just enough to let Kurt keep pace, but it was still necessary for him to nearly run in order to do so.  Luckily, the sound of the dwarves stumbling along covered the noise of him moving, as he was so much more quiet than them.  The path finally led them to the mouth of a great cave, one with gates standing open and a handful of elves gathered around it, clearly guarding it, though they were leaning casually against the walls.  Kurt skulked closer to the group of dwarves and their captors, slipping into the cave at their heels and then skirting along the walls until he was well beyond the entrance.  As the leader of the elves turned to the guards and ordered them to shut the gates, he hurried further into the caves, looking for a good place to hide.  He had a feeling that he was going to be hiding for a while, unless the dwarves could find some way to talk themselves out of the situation they were in.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

 

Despite the fact that they were in caves, the air was somehow fresher than it had been in the forest, and although there were tunnels, they felt much more like the hallways of a home - or rather, palace - with wooden walls and floors and ceilings.  It took several minutes for Kurt to realize that the wood was from the still living roots of what must be trees, coerced to grow together into a seamless covering.  He didn’t have much time to examine them, as the rest of the Company was being led past him and towards a large cavern-like room.  There was an elf there, sitting on the throne placed on a small dais, surveying the amassed dwarves with a dispassionate look.  He didn’t speak, simply gestured at the elves, and they began to hurry the dwarves onwards again, going out a different door and heading down another set of tunnels, these ones made of stone, though still lined with occasional tree roots.  Kurt followed them on soft feet, stopping again when they came to an even larger cavern, one with paths carved into the sides and what looked almost like mouse holes on the sides.  As he watched them, the elves ushered each of the dwarves into one of those small rooms, shutting the barred doors behind them.  More elves followed, sliding trays into the cells, each tray covered but still emitting savory odors.

 

Kurt waited for several long minutes once the last of the dwarves was locked up and fed before he slipped away from the doorway, slowly slipping down the path to the first of the doors.  Mercedes laid inside, ignoring the plate of food that was sitting on the floor, her back to the door.  Kurt hissed her name to get her attention, then slipped his ring off just as she rolled over, pressing himself into the doorway to help avoid detection were any elf to wander along the pathways at the top of the cavern.

  
“Kurt!” Mercedes hissed when she spotted him amongst the shadows.  “How did you get in here without being caught?”  She scrambled to her feet, coming to press herself against the door.

  
“I _am_ your burglar,” Kurt reminded her, reluctant to tell the truth about the ring.  “That’s not important, really.  I can get around here without being caught, so what can I do, knowing that?  Obviously, we’re looking for a way out, but what kind?”  Mercedes pulled back slightly, running her fingers through her beard thoughtfully before she turned back to Kurt.

 

“See what you can find in the way of openings out of here.  Doors, windows, holes - anything.  We’ll see if we can figure out which one to take and then make a plan to get us out of these cells and to wherever we’ve decided to leave from.”  Kurt nodded and ducked his head out from around the doorway too look back out at the rest of the cavern.

 

“Alright, I’ll look around.  Can you spread the word to thee rest that I’m here and trying to get you out?”  He barely waited for her nod before he pressed himself against the stone wall and began to eel himself back out onto the walkway.  Her hiss of his name brought him back around, and he tilted his head at her inquiringly.

 

“Here,” she said, passing a small bundle of cloth through the bars.  Kurt opened one corner of it and was touched to see thick slice of meat sandwich in a soft bun.  He looked up to thank Mercedes, only to see her pressed up against the barred window separating her cell from Tina’s.  He whispered a thank you to her nonetheless, and slipped just around the corner before putting his ring on again.  He tucked the sandwich into his pocket in its place, a small smile on his lips as he patted it a little flatter, then continued on his way.

 

The next few days were simultaneously incredibly stressful and yet insanely boring for Kurt.  Despite the protection of his ring, which he only took off when he was checking in with one of the dwarves, he still felt terrified that he could be spotted at any moment, especially as he had noticed that in bright sunlight or even very good lamp or firelight, his shadow was slightly visible.  With dwarves or hobbits, he wouldn’t have been as worried, but he knew that elves had far keener eyesight and so lived in constant fear that one of them would spot him one day.  Because of that, he skulked around the edges of rooms and kept himself pressed to the walls of the tunnels, avoiding contact with the elves as much as possible.  He snuck occasional bits of food out of their kitchens, but mostly kept himself fed through the kindness and generosity of the dwarves, who each took turns to save him bits of the meals that were delivered to them on a regular schedule.

 

It took him nearly a week to discover the wine cellars and the door to the river that was hidden in them.  He even managed to slip out of the caves one day by trailing an elvish hunting party, and explored until he found the point at which the river came out of the hillside and rushed onwards in the direction of Erebor, the point of which he could just see above the trees.  That was enough for him to decide that they would be best off to escape that way, and when he managed to get back in, he began to search the caverns from top to bottom for a suitable raft or boat.

 

Of boats, there were plenty, but all of them were well-guarded, and far too heavy for him to move even the slightest bit.  He briefly contemplated whether the dwarves would be able to steal one, but that thought was quickly dismissed when he calculated the distance between the storage caverns and the cellars where the trapdoor was located.  There were no rafts that he could find anywhere, or even lightweight tables that he could patch together, if he could even find the nails and hammer to do so.  He didn’t think his skills were up to it, even if he could find the tools necessary.  Feeling forlorn and helpless, he reported his lack of progress to the dwarves for the third evening in a row and went to curl up behind the empty barrels in the cellar, where he’d stowed a purloined blanket and now slept most nights.  It was quiet and out of the way, and aside from the one time that his wall of protection had been tumbled down through the trapdoor, nobody went near it.

 

The barrels accumulated were now up to twelve, and as Kurt drifted off to sleep, still wearing his ring, he heard the cellarkeeper discussing a feast for the next night with the gaoler, whom he seemed to be good friends with.  They were going to be broaching two casks the next morning to start letting them breathe, and they were quite excited about the private tastings they would be doing as soon the wine for the feast had been delivered to the king’s throne room.  It wasn’t until he woke up that the information finally percolated fully through his brain and a plan began to form.  He waited until the cellarkeeper brought his selections of wine up to the dining hall, then quickly investigated the empty barrels, even climbing into one to ensure that they would be big enough.  With that done and enough time spent for the dwarves’ breakfasts to have been served, he went to visit Rachel, wanted to get the princess’ approval of his plan before he shared it with the others.  She wasn’t thrilled with the idea of escaping by water, seeing as dwarves were no better swimmers than hobbits were, but as it was the only one they had been able to come up with in the week they’d been trapped, she told him that they would take it.

 

With the rest of the dwarves informed and slowly preparing themselves for their daring escape, Kurt decided to try and find their weapons, hoping that they wouldn’t have to leave the relative safety of the elves’ domain without some way of protecting themselves.  It wasn’t particularly difficult to find the armory, but finding dwarf-sized weapons in the room was more of a question, especially as he was looking during the day, when the patrols were coming in and out constantly and a steady stream of young elves were looking for practice equipment.  It was a confusing melee of elves, and while that helped hide the flickers of Kurt’s shadow and the occasional faint noises that he made, it also increased the likelihood that he would be found out by somebody, whether by being bumped into or being spotted by a sharp-eyed youngster.

 

Despite his fears, Kurt still searched the armory as thoroughly as possible, but he did not find the dwarves’ weapons.  He did secure a selection of knives, mostly ones that were long enough to be used by him as a short sword, and he hoped they would be enough.  He rather suspected that the king was keeping the confiscated weapons in one of his private rooms, especially as Rachel’s Orcrist was an elvish blade, and he was not going to be able to get at them if that were the case.  Being invisible had its limitations, after all, and a faint shadow slipping through a suddenly open door wasn’t the sort of thing that the elves would miss.  He stowed the knives behind the barrels, wrapping them securely in his blanket and tucking them into a gap between two barrels as much as possible, then settled down to wait.

 

He was awoken from his impromptu nap by the sound of the gaoler jangling down the cellar steps with the cellarkeeper, both of them already slightly tipsy and therefore quite loud, especially for normally quiet elves.  He could only understand bits and pieces of their speech, as they seemed to be speaking a pidgin language comprised of only a small amount of Sindarin, brief moments of common, and a lot of something that sounded rather like the elvish Kurt knew, only less refined.  Regardless, their actions told a loud enough story, and he put himself in a position to observe them as the cellarkeeper brought out a stout ceramic bottle and poured two glasses of a deep purple-red wine from it.  It was certainly potent stuff, for even a whiff of it set Kurt’s head to spinning, but both elves drank it down like it were nothing more than fresh springwater.  Another two glasses apiece followed in swift succession, and then the gaoler’s head began to slowly droop.  His companion did not seem to notice his tending towards slumber, and continued to carry on both sides of the conversation, though he increasingly diverted towards things that had suddenly caught his attention, only to abandon them for a new train of thought moments later.

 

Finally, he too fell asleep, his cheek pillowed on a sleeve that was steadily sopping up a spill.  Kurt crept forward, step by silent step, until he stood next to the table the two elves were seated at.  He observed them cautiously for a long moment, cataloguing each minute movement, then he recklessly knocked over one of the glasses, sending it to the floor, where it shattered upon impact.  The only reaction from the two elves was the cellarkeeper shifting his head slightly before falling back into deep slumber.  Satisfied that the two would likely not awaken to a parade of dwarves tramping through the room, Kurt lifted the keys off the gaoler’s belt with light fingers and trotted off for the cells.  The dwarves were all awaiting him, most of them pacing impatiently.  They began to cheer when he appeared before them, but he quickly hushed them.  He hadn’t seen any other guards, and he could faintly hear the sounds of the feast, but he didn’t want to trust that no elves would wander by close enough to hear them and then decide to come check on things.  He let them out quickly and chivvied them into gathering together, then led them down to the cellars, despite their protests and questions.  Rachel finally had to hiss out a stream of dwarvish to get them all to settle down, fortunately just before they arrived at the cellars.  When the dwarves saw the two elves passed out at their table, they all flushed and nodded apologies at Kurt.

 

Their shame didn’t last long - when they saw the barrels, they burst into hurried and heated arguments, albeit arguments held at a whisper.  None of them were thrilled at the thought of being stuffed into casks and floated down the river, especially as most of them couldn’t swim.  Once again, Rachel had to step in and command them to go along with the plan, and even then they climbed into each barrel quite reluctantly.  Kurt waited impatiently as they did so, trying not to let his frustration show.  Elves were typically quite tolerant of wine, so he didn’t know how long the cellarkeeper and gaoler would be out for, and although they were around a corner and behind a rack of bottles and small casks, he didn’t think it would take long for them to be discovered if the elves were to awaken.  Finally, the last of the dwarves was secured, and Kurt was able to join them, though not before he went to pull the lever that would tip them all into the river.  He had expected it to take a little bit longer for the mechanism to work, so he ended up having to scurry frantically for the barrel he had left for himself.

 

He caught it just as it dropped, and rather than being able to climb in it, he had to cling desperately to the outside of it as it splashed into the water.  The current wasn’t particularly fast, so rather than being ripped off by the water, he was merely buffeted about until he could wind his arms through the hempen rope tied around the barrel.  He had to push hard with his legs against some of the other barrels to keep from getting crushed, even though the dwarves in them were reaching for him, undoubtedly trying to help him climb up the side but actually making things more difficult.  Finally, they seemed to get the message and actively tried to paddle away from his barrel, which was fortunately also downriver.

 

They passed under the watergate, all of them keeping very still and very silent as they watched the guards moving, silhouetted against the stars.  None of the guards seemed to notice that the barrels were sitting lower in the water than they ought to have, and they passed through safely, all of them holding their breaths until they were well and away, hidden behind a bend in the river.  Even then, they kept their voices down, only occasionally whispering directions or questions when necessary.  Eventually, the sky began to lighten, the wispy clouds overhead turning golden and then white as the sky went from black to navy and then finally to a brilliant blue.  The water, which had been very cold, slowly started to warm, until it was only chilly instead of near-freezing, which was quite a relief for Kurt.  He was still chilled through, but it was at least slightly more tolerable, and he was able to kick slightly, both to move himself faster and to regain feeling in his legs.

 

Around noon, they came to a halt in a little inlet, where the waters swirled around each other.  Kurt struggled to unwrap himself at the same time as the dwarves struggled to roll themselves out of the barrels.  Most of the dwarves succeeded first, and Kurt finally untangled his numb arms just as Quinn was being tipped out of her barrel by Brittany and Santana, and Mercedes was being assisted by Finn and Puck.  All of the dwarves looked incredibly bedraggled, some of them with bruises beginning to form.  Kurt himself was covered in bruises, and his arms were rubbed raw from the rope, and he was shivering uncontrollably, but he was alive, as were the remainder of the Company, and that was something he was grateful for.  With that in mind, he struggled through the water until he reached the shore, and then he draped himself over a boulder, allowing the heat retained in it to soak into his belly and chest as the sunlight warmed his back.

 

He wasn’t allowed to rest for long, though, because Rachel was ushering all of the dwarves to their feet, urging them to keep moving.  They were well out of Mirkwood, but they were all exhausted, damp, hungry, and more than ready to finally reach their destination.  A destination that loomed ahead of them, dark and ominous against the bright autumn sky.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

 

They stood at the end of a long bridge, staring out at the town that was somehow suspended in the lake, hunched in upon itself like a bear hunkering down for winter.  Despite the fact that it was only late autumn, the grasses on the bank were sere and brown and the winds blowing off the lake were chilly.  All of them huddled in a group together, cold, still damp, and hungry, looking at the simultaneously depressing and intimidating sight of the city.  They had spent the rest of the day walking, and as the sun set behind them, they were facing the choice between spending a night out in the open or entering a potentially unfriendly city with nothing more than some knives to defend themselves.  It was Rachel who finally made the decision, stepping forward to put a foot on the base of the bridge decisively.

 

“We need food and shelter, and possibly some better weapons.  Unless any of you have a better idea for where we can sleep tonight?”  Her voice was challenging, and she stared them all down with defiance until they all moved to join her, at which point she turned forward again and marched down the bridge until she reached the guard post.  They were stopped there by the men posted, who seemed far more interested in their presence than in any threat they might pose.  In fact, one of the three men was repeatedly quoting what sounded like either poetry or song lyrics in between rapid-fire questions.  Kurt was stuck at the back of the group, tucked securely between Finn and Tina, so he could only hear snippets of what was going on.

 

It didn’t take long for the guards to wave them through once Rachel mentioned rather bluntly that they were all hungry and tired.  In fact, they were told that the Master of the town was currently holding a feast and were given directions to his home, in order to announce themselves properly and receive welcome.  Kurt was a bit surprised that the guards were so sure that they would receive a warm welcome, considering they were going to potentially be unleashing a dragon’s fury from the mountain only a few leagues away, but their certainty was undeniable and infectious, and he found himself following along as much because he was looking forward to a good meal as because he was still sandwiched among the dwarves.  The men and women on the streets all looked at them curiously, and although there were mostly smiles whenever there was an actual expression, Kurt saw at least a few frowns, as well as townspeople turning away before he could see their expressions.  Many of them seemed to be poorly off, with ragged clothes and thin faces that looked exhausted, which seemed counter to the fact that their Master was having a feast.

 

The Master’s house was even more confusing, because it was incredibly luxurious, quite the contrast to the rest of the homes in the city.  There was a man at the door who stopped them in the foyer, took their names and went to clear their presence with the Master, leaving them standing about examining the finely panelled walls and the well-laid stone floor, as well as the hangings and paintings scattered about.  It was several long moments before the man returned to lead them into the feast, and although his jaw was tight, he was forcing a smile onto his lips.  Kurt was hesitant to follow along, as it was clear that at least some of the population was not interested in having them there.  The dwarves were following without question or comment, however, so he hustled along in their midst, keeping his eyes on Mercedes’ back rather than looking at the guests they passed among, though he could still feel their gazes falling on him as they scanned the Company.

 

The Master was seated at a small table positioned on a low dais, flanked by two other men, but he stood when they were escorted to stand before him.

 

“Welcome,” he boomed, throwing his arms wide.  “May I ask who I am hosting this fine evening?”  Rachel stepped forward and bowed formally, followed closely by Sam and Rory.

 

“I am Rachel, daughter of Hiram and of Leroy, King Under the Mountain.  These are the sons of my sister, Sam and Rory.  We thank you for your hospitality, as we return to our rightful home.”  There was a sudden susurrus of noise that built into a rumble, as all of the guests began first to whisper then speak loudly about the return of the King Under the Mountain, even if she were the daughter of the one they had expected.  Some of them broke into a song about the return of the King of Erebor, a festive sounding tune that told of how his return would bring back wealth and allow them to rebuild the city of Dale.  Any doubts the Master might have had about supporting them fully were clearly wiped away by the reaction of his people, and he smiled widely, stepping down off the dais to press Rachel’s hand in both of his.

 

“Well then, let us do what we can to assist you in your quest!” he shouted, raising his voice above the clamor of the crowd to be heard.  “And let us begin that assistance with this feast.  Come, take seats and enjoy the bounty of our lake.”  He waved his hands at some of the people sitting at some of the higher tables, shooing them to lower seats to make space for the dwarves.  Kurt was seated amongst them, shoved into the middle of the group and thus prevented from observing the entirety of the room.  He felt safer being among the Company in such a way, especially with the size of the men and their level of drunkenness.  That being said, he also felt trapped by them, unable to leave the table without drawing far too much attention.  The soaking he had received was giving him chills, and he could feel that a cold was well on its way.

 

They were kept at the feast until well past midnight, by which time Kurt was sneezing violently, his nose horribly full and his throat already starting to hurt.  The Master didn’t seem to notice his pain, but some of the dwarves did, and Mercedes made a point of asking for a doctor for the entirety of their Company, though her gaze rested primarily on Kurt.  There was some hesitation and stammering on the part of the Master, but one of the other guests proclaimed that he was a doctor, and offered to care for all of them when they were settled in comfortable housing.  That put the Master in another corner, and after more stutterings and a couple of unsubtle suggestions that they stay with some of the guests, he reluctantly invited them to stay the night with him, quickly adding that they would be found a house just for themselves the very next day.  It was quite clear to Kurt, even through the miasma of his burgeoning sickness, that the Master wanted nothing more than to have them out of his home and, presumably, his responsibility, but he was far too aware of their potential influence to actually say as much.

 

Kurt didn’t get the chance to ask Rachel if she’d noticed the Master’s attitude before they were all hustled into rooms, but he found that he had been placed in a room with Mercedes and Tina, so he looked to them as soon as the door was shut behind them.

 

“We saw it too,” Mercedes reassured him once he asked her about it.  “And we know that it could be problematic if he decides that turning against us is more valuable than supporting us.  But for now, we need to take all the help we can get and deal with what consequences come when they come.  Hopefully we can regain our health and strength and gather some supplies before any issue do arise.”  Tina nodded her agreement from where she was seated in front of the fireplace, steadfastly combing out her beard.  Relief flooded over Kurt, and he collapsed into one of the chairs by the fire, only keeping himself out of bed with the knowledge that the doctor would likely be coming around soon and he would be better off to be seen sooner rather than later.

 

Half an hour later, Kurt rolled into the small cot that had been prepared for him, more than ready to sleep and feeling immeasurably better for having been ushered into a warm steam bath, given a steaming mug of herbal tea, and a small paper packet of lozenges to help with his throat.  The cot was small, but it was so much more comfortable than anywhere he’d slept in the past few weeks that it barely took him a minute to fall into a half-doze, one where he could still hear Mercedes and Tina discussing something in the rumbling dwarvish language.  From there, he slipped slowly and easily into sleep, the herbs in his tea finally taking over.

 

They were awoken with the sunrise the next morning, though all of them would have preferred to have slept longer.  The Master of the town was quick to escort them all down to breakfast, blathering at them all about all the open homes that they could potentially be set up in.  Rachel nodded at him, apparently listening, but the rest of them ignored him in favour of the food on the table.  Despite the proliferation of food they had been able to devour the night before, they were all still very hungry, Kurt in particular due to his illness.  He had woken up with a throbbing head and a full nose, and the only reason his throat wasn’t sore was that he was steadfastly sucking on the lozenges he’d been given.  Between that and the hot tea and honey he was pouring down his throat, he was coping, but he knew that he would need to rest much more to even begin to heal.  As it was, the only thing keeping him from nodding off right over the table was the tea, and even then the caffeine was having to fight against its warmth.

 

They were bundled into new cloaks and coats, oversized boots given to the dwarves, most of whom chose to keep their old pairs, even though they were water-stained and likely letting in quite a bit of cold air.  Tina, who had the biggest feet of the group, was able to find a comfortable new pair, and Artie happily stomped about in boots that were much too big.  The men looked askance at Kurt’s feet and tried to offer him stockings, but they didn’t take any offense when he waved them off, simply accepting a coat that was nearly the size of a dress on him.  With all of them outfitted to the best of the Master’s ability, one of his men led the entirety of their Company out into the streets, taking them to the first of three houses that the Master had arranged for them to take over.

 

The day dragged on for Kurt, and Mike eventually took charge of getting him back to a quiet place, though that ended up being a small tavern rather than the Master’s home, when they couldn’t get an answer at his door.  The tavern-owner was happy to give them space in a small booth tucked in the corner of his dining room, and supplied Mike with a tankard of ale along with a mug of warm tea with honey for Kurt.  He leaned in the corner of the booth, supported by a few pillows, and sipped slowly at the tea, feeling his head spinning wildly with exhaustion.  They’d made it to the second house before he’d begun to feel faint, and he was glad that it had been as close to the Master’s house and the tavern as it was, because he didn’t think he would have been able to make it much further.  As it was, he started to doze off as the afternoon wore on, and was startled awake when the remainder of the Company drew chairs up and dropped down around the table.

 

“Did you...?” he asked, starting to sit up before he was pushed back down by Mike and Quinn.  Sam was sitting across from him and leaned forward to talk to him rather than have him sit up.

 

“That first place,” Sam told him.  Kurt nodded, remembering the house and pleased with the choice.  He would likely need to share a room, but it was a reasonably large place, so he hoped he would be able to find some quiet space for himself at least some of the time.

 

“We should get Kurt there and see if we can have that doctor come back again to check on him,” Mike told Rachel, holding up a hand to forestall Kurt’s instinctual protests.  “All of us should eat and rest as well.  We all got wet and weren’t able to eat well for far too long, so we should do our best to take care of ourselves.”  He scanned the Company with a stern look, which cowed Sam and Rory’s rebellious looks.  Rachel nodded, but hesitated for a long moment before gesturing the tavern-owner over, ordering a round of some kind of liqueur for all of them.  The glasses were quickly brought over and equally quickly consumed by the dwarves.  Kurt sipped at his, unable to pour it down his throat, which was starting to hurt again.  None of the dwarves showed any signs of irritation or impatience, simply sitting around and discussing their next steps while he sipped away.

 

Once he was done, Kurt found himself bundled up in Finn’s arms, extra cloaks wrapped around him to cushion him and keep him warm.  He wanted to protest, but the liqueur was hitting him much harder than he had expected, and the only thing he could manage was a weak flail of his arms and mumbled arguments that he could handle walking on his own.  He finally subsided when he realized that he couldn’t even push aside Quinn’s hands as she was tucking a cloak in around him, but he still grumbled a little bit as Finn hoisted him up and carried him out of the tavern.  The walk to the house they were staying in was a blur, and Kurt was mostly asleep by the time they arrived.  He was shaken awake when the doctor arrived and forced the herbal tea he was given down before collapsing back into the bed he had been given and falling right to sleep.

 

He slept through the better part of the next week, slowly getting first worst and then better.  When he was awake, he observed the dwarves running around gathering supplies, as well as regaining their own strength and health.  Men came by the house every day, bringing things, consulting with the dwarves, or even just coming to watch them.  One in particular caught Kurt’s eye once he was able to get out of his bed and sit in a chair in the kitchen next to the hearth, a man who brought by bows and arrows, fish, and once a great wheel of cheese.  He seemed less interested in the dwarves than most of the others, even seeming to outright avoid them at times.  He was far more willing to talk to Kurt than the dwarves, and as the days went by, he revealed more and more about himself.  His name was Blaine, he said, and he was the great-great-grandson of the man that had once led Dale, and that his ancestor had managed to knock a scale off of Sue’s hide with his great crossbow and an iron arrow.  His stories were fascinating, but they always ended abruptly when one of the dwarves got too close, his face closing off in quiet anger and distrust.

 

Another week was well underway before they were ready to leave, and Rachel was starting to get impatient with the time the Master was taking to provide them with transit to the shore, an impatience shown primarily by her snapping at Kurt.  He took it with as much stoicism as he could muster, knowing that there was fear and worry hiding underneath the facade.  Still, there were a few times where he found himself having to give her an unimpressed look, though even that was only enough to have her back off for a little while.  Finally, though, they were allowed to leave, and they rowed out on the tide under a burgeoning mood, bundled in cloaks to protect themselves for the brisk autumn air.  Rachel was fretting, pacing and muttering about the fact that they only had a matter of days to find the secret entrance.  Kurt could understand the reasoning behind her worrying, but it was still rather unsettling, especially as it was occurring on a raft traversing a rather broad stretch of open water.

 

Despite his fear and Rachel’s pacing, they made it to shore safely, where they were deposited with full packs, detailed maps of what the Laketowners called the “Desolation of Sue” up to a few hundred yards from Erebor itself, and the good wishes of the polemen.  They were told that if they were to succeed and desire to return, all they had to do was light a signal fire on the shore.  There was more than a hint of the implication that the men did not believe they would survive, never mind win back the mountain, but they were kind enough to pretend that there was an actual possibility.  The dwarves didn’t seem to realize it was a pretense, or perhaps they too wanted to believe it, because they were shouting back to expect the fire no more than a fortnight hence.  Kurt had the awful thought that any fire the lakemen might see would be that of the dragon, and huddled at the back of the group and hid his face in his cloak to prevent any of the Company from seeing his reaction.

 

When the raft was well away from the shore, they turned as a group to look up through the foothills at Erebor, though Kurt’s eyes traced the path until it disappeared between two outcroppings.  They had a fair idea of what they would face once they emerged from the hills to see Dale and the valley that lay before Erebor, but Kurt rather thought he was the only one who was taking the warnings and stories to heart.  The rest, though their intentions were good, were too focused on the end of their quest to think about the possible consequences if they were to fail and Sue was released on the world.  He resolved firmly to ensure that such a thing wouldn’t happen, even if it cost him dearly.  He hoped that they would be able to find whatever it was that Rachel was searching for without awakening the dragon, and use it against her to prevent her from doing any more harm.  And when his thoughts turned to the apparent impossibility of that task, he turned them back to the future, following the dwarves doggedly as they set off into the hills.

 

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

 

The trip up to Erebor was arguably the worst of their quest so far, because they felt that they could not so much as talk, never mind sing or laugh.  The ominous aura had descended on them on their first full day out of Laketown, as they descended from a hill to find the grasses half-dead and chunks of rubble spread about.  The signs of destruction continued for the next day, steadily growing worse, until they started to see bones.  Kurt could barely stand to look at them, the knowledge of what had happened to them eating away at him.  The dwarves seemed less affected, but they still looked away from the worst of the scenes, especially when the bodies were child-sized.  Still they trudged on, heads down against the wind trying to cut through them, bodies hunched in on themselves and leaning into each other.  The clouds that had been scudding across the sky thickened and drew inwards, leaving them in a grey gloom that occasionally drizzled rain on them, darkening the mood further.

 

Seeing Dale for the first time had a nearly physical impact on Kurt, the broken towers and destroyed walls speaking of the horrors that had happened so many years ago.  Even worse were the reddish-brown stains that spread over swathes of the grey-white stone, still not washed clean even after decades of rain and snow.  The dwarves marched past with their heads lowered, but Kurt couldn’t manage to look away for long, his eyes being drawn inexorably back to the horrific sights.  It was only when they turned away and toward Erebor that he was able to pay full attention to where he was walking again, and the blasted and destroyed gates were no less horrific, though their impact was lessened slightly by the distance.  The great valley that lay between the destroyed city and the plundered mountain hall was nothing but shades of black and grey, with touches of dirty white on the oppressing shoulder of the mountain.  It was a dour sight, and Kurt felt a chill steal across the back of his neck while he was taking it in.

 

They camped in the valley that night, only a few leagues from the gates, and none of them slept well, jumping at the slightest of noises and huddling deep in their blankets and cloaks as they did not wish to risk a fire.  They all rose the next morning in foul moods, not helped by the fact that by Mike’s calculations, it was now Durin’s Day and they had not yet found where the door was located, never mind how to open it.  The best they could say was that it was to the west of the gates, and they were hoping that they would be able to reach it from the valley, rather than having to re-enter the foothills and approach from due west.  They ate a cold and rather tasteless breakfast with alacrity, all of the dwarves practically quivering with their need to be gone, and then set off to the gates, where they planned to split up and spread out to search for the possible location of the door.

 

The search was tedious, especially as they all felt that they had to be entirely silent lest one of them wake the dragon.  Kurt didn’t mind it, except for the fact that he could do no more than hiss at Artie, his partner, when he found something interesting, but the dwarves were having much more trouble with it, accidentally kicking rocks, tripping over piles of rubble, and otherwise sounding rather like a herd of fauntlings in the process of destroying the remains of an old building.  Minus the dwarvish cursing, of course, he thought with a sniff as one of the others once again let loose a stream that started out in a near yell and quickly trickled off to a whisper that still echoed around the space before the gates.  Kurt shook his head despairingly and continued about his business, reasoning that if Sue were to have heard them, she would have done so by now and they would all be dead.  Still, he wasn’t going to be the one to outright ignore Rachel’s command and so he kept moving in silence, even when he wanted to shout to get Artie’s attention.

 

Tina apparently didn’t have the same thought process, and her shout brought all of them running to where she stood, her foot on the first step of what appeared to be a staircase carved into the side of the mountain.  It was tucked in a small crevice located around the corner of a long spur that his it from the sight of the gates, and you had to stand in just the right spot to see anything more than the first few steps, which were carved skillfully to make them seem like a natural formation.  Still, it was undeniably there, and all of them rather suspected that it was the path to the door they were looking for, even if there was no proof of that fact.  Still, they were rapidly running out of time, with the sun already directly overhead, so they began to ascend the steps, only able to go one at a time due to the narrowness of parts of the path.  Kurt found himself near the middle of the group, struggling along at Finn’s heels with Puck coming up behind him.  There were a few times where the dwarves had to help him along, boosting him from behind and pulling him up from above.

 

The finally made it to the top of the stairs, half of them panting from the climb.  The path had spat them out on a wide ledge, with a smooth wall at the far edge.  Kurt couldn’t see any signs of lintels, jambs, or hinges, but the dwarves were fairly certain that they had found the door, although they could not yet determine how to open it.  They all marched up to the wall, running fingers along it, trying to feel out where the keyhole might be, but although it looked smooth from a distance and was indeed worked stone, there were still far too many divots and crevices for them to be able to find the right one, even when they took into account the fact that it would be an appropriate height for dwarvish use.  Kurt mostly kept himself out of the way, knowing that he knew far less of stone than even the least informed of the dwarves.  None of them seemed to mind his lack of participation, and when he started to put together a lunch meal, a few of them gave him grateful looks.

 

The sun sunk lower and lower in the sky as they continued to search the wall, their actions becoming more frantic as the day slipped away from them.  Rachel’s brow furrowed deeper and she pushed the rest of the dwarves harder with every moment that passed, but nothing helped and as the sun slipped below the horizon, she sat on a boulder and hung her head disconsolately, not reacting even when Sam and then Rory came to her, looking for guidance beyond continuing to search.  When the last glimmer of sunlight faded from the sky, the entirety of the Company came to join her, standing about her expectantly and waiting for direction.  She didn’t say a word, simply standing and turning back towards the stairs, trudging a slow and disappointed path towards them followed by the other dwarves.  Just before she descended the stairs, she withdrew the key from her vest and dropped it off to one side before trudging on.

 

Kurt wanted to scream at them, but instead he simply dropped down disconsolately, his head in his hands.  He could hear the dwarves being to trudge down the stairs, and the noise reminded him of the pattern of the instructions Lord Beiste had read out to them all those moons ago.

 

“Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks, and the setting sun with the last light of Durin’s Day will shine upon the keyhole,” he repeated, lifting his head up off his hands and looking about.  Most of the rocks were a reddish-brown, or tinted green with moss, but just by the wall there was a low grey stone, shaped something like a bench.  As he stared at it, a bird flew to land on it, with an acorn in its beak, and began to tap it against the back of the stone.  Just as it began, the moon cast a beam of light on the wall, highlighting a small divot,  Kurt scrambled off the rock quickly, hurrying over to the wall, where he probed at the divot until he cleared a little bit of dirt from it, revealing that it was a key-hole.  His heart nearly stopped in shock, and he let out a small noise, then blinked several times to ensure he was seeing what he thought he was.

 

“I found it!” he shouted as loudly as he could, keeping his finger on the keyhole so that he didn’t lose it.  He turned his body as much as he could, looking at the staircase and shouting again.  “Rachel, Sam, Mercedes.  Come back.  It’s here.  It was the moonlight.  The last light of the day was the moonlight!”  The footsteps that had been descending paused and then resumed, coming upwards this time instead of heading down.  Kurt wanted to scramble over to grab the key, but he was worried about losing the keyhole, so he simply sat there, waiting as the trudging got closer.  Sam was the first one to appear, and he gathered the key from where Rachel had dropped it, stepping to the side to let the rest of the Company get by.  Rachel was the very last one to appear and she took the key from Sam with a nod, heading over to where Kurt was standing, her eyes glistening slightly in the moonlight.

 

“Thank you,” she whispered as she passed Kurt.  He simply stepped back and out of the way, leaving the keyhole open to view by the dwarves.  Rachel stepped one more step forward and lifted the key to the hole, pausing for a long moment before fitting it in.  All of them released a sigh of relief when it fit, and then another one when she turned it and there was a distinctive clunking noise, and a thin line appeared on the wall, drawing a clear outline of a door.  It took three of the dwarves leaning against it to coerce it open, the hinges groaning with age and disuse, and it revealed a cobweb covered hall, though half of them disintegrated with the faint breeze of the door’s movement.  Despite the trials they had gone through to get to the point there were at, all of them hesitated to enter, gathering around the doorway but leaving the dust on the floor untouched.

 

Rachel finally took the first step, making her way into the mountain slowly, each of her steps leaving a clear imprint behind.  Mercedes was the next one to follow her, though she seemed to be actively trying to fit her footprints in Rachel’s, as though she didn’t want to leave a mark of her own.  The effect was ruined moments later when Sam and Rory followed behind them, both of them moving without any concerns or considerations.  They broke the dam, and the remainder of the Company followed their suit, leaving Kurt to trail at their rear, feeling the weight of the mountain above him as soon as he stepped through the doorway.  It was more of a comforting weight than a frightening one, but it was still disconcerting for him, and he hurried along to keep up with the rest of the Company, not wanting to be left behind.  They had brought torches along with them, and at some point somebody must have lit some, for he was easily able to follow the group just by looking for the reddish-orange glow of the flames.

 

The dwarves had all gathered in a large room, huddled to one side of it, examining a carving on the wall.  Kurt pushed himself into the middle of their group, looking up at the carving in curiosity.

 

“What is that?” he asked, even though he could see quite clearly that it was a carving of a dwarf seated on a throne, holding up an oddly-shaped object, with rays radiating from it.

 

“The Arkenstone,” Mercedes breathed, her voice reverent.  “The King’s Jewel.”  
  
“It’s why you are here,” Rachel explained.  “That jewel produces a song that allows us to protect our people in the mines, determine when shafts are unstable, or when they are no longer worth working in.  It has been the strength of this mountain for generations, and with it, I will be able to ask for the help of the dwarves from the Iron Hills, and perhaps others.”  Kurt could understand the logic, but something about the way Rachel spoke unnerved him.  Still, he could see where the conversation was going, and while he was incredibly nervous at the thought, he was hopeful that he could find one small jewel quickly and quietly.

 

“So I’m to find it and steal it, then?” he asked, just to be clear.  “Just it, go in, get it, and then come out?”  Rachel nodded in confirmation, and he sighed and then rolled his shoulders.  “Alright.  How will I know which jewel it is?”

 

“You will know,” Rachel said shortly, but Mercedes rolled her eyes and stepped forward.

 

“It is about this size,” she said making a fist, “and it has a slight glow to it.  Otherwise it is white.  And it will give a slight hum, which can be heard from a short distance.  Is that enough?”  Kurt sighed in relief, and nodded, then held up one finger.

 

“Actually, one more question.  Where do you think I could find it.”  He ignored the snickers of a few of the dwarves, staring steadily at both Mercedes and Rachel in turn.

 

“I would imagine that Sue has added it to her hoard,” Rachel said sharply.  “It would be irresistible to a creature such as her.  Look for it wherever the majority of the gold and other gems are.”  She waved dismissively at Kurt, and Mercedes took his shoulder, directing him away from the group and towards one of the halls leading off of the room.

 

“Down this way is the great gathering hall,” she explained as she led him a short way around the corner.  “I would imagine that is where Sue has gathered the entirety of our wealth.  Start there, then come back here to update us before you move along.  If it’s not there, it might be in the treasury, and I will take you there.”  Kurt nodded confirmation, then pressed her hand before heading off down the hall.  It was a simple journey, the path twisting and turning but without any paths turning off of it.  Kurt waited until he was halfway down to slip the ring on, breathing a sigh of slight relief once he knew that he could no longer be seen.  He wasn’t entirely certain that a dragon wouldn’t be able to find him by some other means, but it was still an additional level of protection.

 

He wasn’t expecting the hallway to let out directly onto the gathering hall, and so he stumbled over a tall pile of coins in the doorway, fortunately catching himself on a pillar before he fell to the ground, which was covered with a thin layer of coins, jewels, and other riches.  The coins he had kicked jingled as they tipped over, and he held his breath, terrified that he might have been heard.  He waited for several long moments, completely unmoving, but there didn’t seem to be any sign that he had been heard - or any sign of the dragon, for that matter.  He slipped further into the room, moving slowly and ensuring that his footing was stable with each step he took, not wanting to risk making any more noise.  As he crept around the pillars that framed the entrance, he discovered that the room was much larger than expected, and that the gold had been piled up in hills and mountains within it, leaving him with what seemed to be a vast landscape of wealth, a sight that would have been awe-inspiring but only left him filled with dread at the thought of having to search through it all.  There was no sign of the dragon, but fires burned in massive sconces throughout the room, suggesting that wherever Sue was, it couldn’t be far off and she certainly wasn’t dead or in some sort of hibernation.

 

With that knowledge in mind, Kurt moved even more carefully, snaking his way through the mounds of glittering loot to avoid any potential slippage.  Despite his best efforts, he still had to climb up the sides of some of the hills, and at the top of one of the tallest, he slipped a few inches, catching the side of a gold cup, which tipped over and fell down, drawing a river of coins after it.  Kurt froze and held his breath, watching as the river grew wider, more and more coins and gems following, until they started separating around a broad red ridge, one that overhung a red wall.  It seemed oddly nubbed, but Kurt was more occupied looking around to ensure that Sue hadn’t overheard and was descending on him to pay more attention.  The avalanche finally ended, and he waited several long, breathless minutes before daring to take another step forward.  Just as he did so, he noticed an odd movement out of the corner of his eye, and slowly turned to look at the location that had just experienced the avalanche of gold.  The overhang was still there, but the wall that had existed was now a wall of yellow with an odd crack in the middle of it.

 

It took far too long for Kurt to realize that he was staring directly into the eye of a giant creature, and it was only sheer panic that kept him from jumping away in fright.  Once the worst of it passed, he remembered that he was invisible, which helped calm him.  He calmed even further when the eye didn’t move any further, and once he was fairly certain that he wasn’t being observed, he began to creep along again, trying to get to the wall, where he would reassess his location and where he should head.  He took three steps, placing his feet carefully before trusting his weight to them, but that was all the distance he could cover before the great red head of the dragon erupted from the treasure, sending it shooting all around the room.  Kurt too was thrown, though he was able to catch himself against a pillar rather than being tossed clear across the room.

 

“Thieves,” the dragon thundered, winding her way about the room, clearly seeking the source of the disturbance.  “I smell you, I feel you.  You smell like dwarven-scum and breathe as loud as a bellows.  You cannot hide forever.”  Kurt shivered at the sound of the dragon’s voice, but he wasn’t about to doubt her words.  He could not hope to avoid her wrath for long, not as long as he was trapped in the gathering hall, but he didn’t intend to stay there for long.  As soon as her back was to him, he scurried around the pillar and hurried across the shifting piles towards the wall.  The tides were moving with the motions of Sue’s body, though, and he found himself sliding backwards towards the centre of the room.  He caught himself against another pillar and ducked behind it, realizing with relief that it was holding up some sort of partial roof.

 

“Come out, thief,” Sue hissed, wrapping herself around the set of pillars Kurt was hiding amongst, winding tighter and tighter.  Kurt looked around desperately, but with every opening covered by winding red scales, he had to admit defeat, and so he pulled the ring off, stepping out as far into the open as he could get without actually walking into Sue.

 

“I’m not a thief, O Sue the Tremendous” he said, as loudly as he could, then braced himself as her head whipped around, coming terrifyingly close to him.  “I merely wanted to gaze upon your magnificence, to see if you really were as great as the old tales say. I did not believe them.”  He knew that he was trembling, but he held himself as still and straight as possible, forcing a facade of bravery even if he couldn’t force the reality.

 

“And do you believe them now?” the dragon roared, rearing up and presenting the entirety of her body to Kurt.  He pretended to admire her while simultaneously searching her for a weakness and around her for a way out, but he had no luck.

 

“Truly, the tales and songs fall utterly short of your enormity, O Sue the Stupendous,” he said, once he felt that she was wavering on the line between flattered and frustrated.

 

“Do you think flattery will keep you alive?  You seem familiar with my name, but I don’t remember smelling your kind before. Who are you, and where do you come from, may I ask?”  Sue dropped back down on all fours, once again bringing her head down to Kurt’s level, as much as possible.

 

“I come from under the hill,” Kurt said, hesitating on an attempt to make things interesting without becoming so ridiculous that Sue would disbelieve him.  “And under the hills and over the hills my paths led. And through the air. I am he that walks unseen.  I am the clue-finder, the web-cutter, the stinging fly.  I came from the end of a bag, but no bag went over me.  I am the friend of bears and the guest of eagles. I am Ringwinner and Luckwearer; and I am Barrel-rider.”

 

“Very impressive,” Sue rumbled, “but what of your little dwarf friends? Where are they hiding?”

 

“Dwarves?” Kurt asked, doing his best to sound innocent.  “Truly, you are mistaken, O Sue, chiefest and greatest of calamities.  There are no dwarves here.”  Sue snorted, a great gust of air that washed over him like a wave.

 

“You have nice manners...for a thief and a liar!” she hissed.  “They sent you in here to do their dirty work while they skulk about outside.  I know the smell and taste of dwarf.  No one better. It is the gold!  They are drawn to treasure like flies to dead flesh.  I always knew the day would come, when dwarves would attempt to return to my mountain.”  She reared up again, flapping her wings wildly and bowling Kurt over.  He scrambled backwards again, hiding behind the pillar for long enough to slip the ring on.

 

“And yet they do not dare approach me! I kill where I wish and none dare resist. I laid low the warriors of old and their like is not in the world today. Then I was but young and tender. Now I am old and strong, strong, strong!  My armour is like tenfold shields, my teeth are swords, my claws spears, the shock of my tail a thunderbolt, my wings a hurricane, and my breath death!”  She roared out a gout of flame, luckily a fair distance from where Kurt had flung himself.  He scrambled further away nonetheless, trying to move with the scattering of the coins to hide as much as possible.  As he was running, he caught sight of a bright, shining jewel, one that seemed to hum into his mind even through the curious deadening of his senses that becoming invisible seemed to bring about.  He diverted his path without even thinking about it, chasing after the jewel even as it bounced down the side of large pile and Sue whipped her tail around in his general direction.

 

He managed to catch the jewel just at the bottom of the hill, and caught it up in his hands, stuffing it in his coat pocket as soon as he managed to skid to a stop.  He couldn’t stop for any longer, not with the dragon still flailing about wildly and presenting a threat.  He hugged the wall as much as possible, hoping that the proximity of the stone would discourage Sue from the location and give him that bit more protection.  She seemed lost in her rage anyway, simply tearing about the hall and screaming what seemed to Kurt to be gibberish, though it might well have been another language.  That didn’t make Kurt feel any safer, especially as he was already hidden.  He knew that he could easily get caught by a chance wing, tail, or claw, and be just as hurt or dead as he would be if it had been done intentionally.  Thus his movements were staggered, with brief periods of racing as quickly as possible interspersed with him huddling behind a pile of gold or plated armor, watching as Sue rampaged past, somehow always missing him, though he did get pelted by coins and gems more than a few times.

 

His luck was with him, despite the bruises he collected, for he made it back to the doorway he had come in through without sustaining any serious injuries.  Despite his desire to pelt headlong down it until he made it back to the relative safety of the dwarves’ company, he forced himself to slow and return to sneaking about to prevent any sign of where he was heading from reaching the dragon.  He could only hope that any scent-trails he might have left were muddled enough by the movement of the gold, or that Sue would be stymied by the size of the hallway and therefore unable to reach them, because there was nothing he could do if she managed to sniff him out and chose to try to follow.  Even if they chose to run, she would undoubtedly catch up without much effort, and they would be little more than sitting targets out in the open with her on the wing.  Still, he knew the dwarves needed to know that he had woken the beast and provoked her to a fury, so he moved as quickly as possible, only pausing long enough to slip the ring off his finger and back into his pocket when he was just around the corner from them.

 

“Kurt!” Mercedes exclaimed as he came around and into the light.  “You made it!”  He couldn’t tell whether she sounded more joyous or surprised, and a part of him wanted to be offended that they had apparently doubted him enough to think that he might not make it back.  Another, larger part of him, remembered that he had managed to completely bungle everything with Sue, and that part prevented him from saying anything rashly rude, no matter how much he wanted to.

 

“Yes, but only just.  Not only is Sue alive and well, but she may know that you are here and be working herself into some sort of rampage.”  He winced in anticipation of their reaction, only to be surprised when Rachel seemed to ignore everything he’d just said, grabbing him by the shoulders and turning him towards her.

 

“Did you find it?” she asked, her eyes wild.  “The Arkenstone, was it there?”  Kurt almost went to reach for the jewel he had picked up, intending to present it and hope that it was indeed the Arkenstone, but he hesitated, not entirely comfortable with the way Rachel was behaving.

 

“I don’t know,” he said, choosing to be mostly honest while not telling her that he thought he might have the Arkenstone in his pocket.  “There were so many jewels there, so many white gems.  I cannot say for sure that I saw the Arkenstone.”  Rachel released him almost immediately, looking nearly distraught at the news.

 

“No, you would have known it had you seen it,” she said, then looked away as though disgusted.  Whatever thoughts she might have been having were interrupted by a loud roar, followed by a faint red glow coming up the hallway Kurt had descended.

 

“We’re not safe here,” he said bluntly, eyeing the red but finally determining that it wasn’t coming any closer.  “Sue now knows how I came down to her hall, and she is not such a fool as not to guess where the other end of the tunnel is. She will break all this side of the Mountain to bits, if necessary, to stop up our entrance, and if we are smashed with it the better she will like it.  We must close the door and move to another location to have any hope of surviving.”  The dwarves scoffed at Kurt’s fears, but they could not deny that the dragon had found the hall he had travelled.  None of them wanted to shut the door, though, as they weren’t sure that they could open it again from the inside, so they hesitated and hummed and finally send Mike and Matt to wait by the door with instructions to shut it only if they saw any sign of the dragon.

 

With that sorted, the dwarves sat Kurt down and began to quiz him on everything he had seen while he was searching the gathering hall and speaking to Sue.  Initially, he had been certain that nothing he had seen could be of help, but Mercedes and Finn were surprisingly good at drawing out little bits of information that he hadn’t been aware his brain had retained.  They determined that the doorway to the front gates was virtually impassable due to rubble, but that the forges were wide open.  Kurt kept as vague as he could about his escape, not wanting to reveal either the existence of the ring or his acquisition of what he was fairly certain was the Arkenstone.  None of the dwarves seemed to find this suspicious, and he might have been offended by their assumption of his fear if it wasn’t so useful for him.  He still refused to play up to it, and simply kept insisting that his memory was a blur during that period of time, and that he wasn’t even sure how long it had taken him to get out.  That wasn’t at all a lie, which made him feel a little bit better.

 

They were just about done with Kurt when Mike and Matt returned, pale, sweaty, and panting heavily.  Kurt didn’t even have to ask what had happened, but Rachel, did.

 

“Sue flew out of the mountain, heading south and west,” Matt gasped out.

 

“That’s towards Laketown!” Kurt said, suddenly feeling doubly guilty with his role in rousing the beast.

 

“We cannot do anything about that now,” Rachel told them bluntly.  “By the time we arrive to assist, Sue will have come and gone, and all will have lived or died on their own.  We are better to strengthen our hold here and prepare to kill her when she returns.  Then we will at least stop her from destroying others.”  Kurt wanted to argue with her, but he knew that she was logically right.  Still, her cool and uncaring tone rubbed him the wrong way and he looked away rather than acknowledge his forced agreement.  The rest of the Company murmured assent when she looked around at them, and began to argue about priorities and work details.  Kurt sat and listened, feeling heart-sick but not sure what he could do.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

 

The first goal the dwarves came up with was to block up any entries through which Sue could enter the mountain, and as Kurt was not of any assistance, he was assigned the task of caring for them as they worked.  He put together best, cleared out rooms, cooked meals, found a spring in a cavern-like room, and ever dragged out, put together, and cleaned and oiled armor, weapons, and mail for the dwarves.  Each day, Rachel pulled him aside and asked if he’d found the Arkenstone, and her mood grew fouler and more hopeless each time he told her he had not.  He had tucked the jewel into a small nook in a fireplace of one of the rooms he’d checked, muffling it in a cloak he’d found to block the faint humming it gave off.  He’d considered handing it over a few times, but her desperation for it triggered a fearful reaction in him, and he kept putting it off, reasoning that he could always “find” it at any time.

 

The repairs progressed quickly, and as the days went by the dwarves grew hopeful that Sue had chosen to fly off and find another mountain to live in.  Kurt rather hoped that the man Blaine had managed to take Sue out the way he had wanted to.  He had the iron arrow from his ancestor, a fair idea of where there might be a chink in her scaly armour, and the driving desire to reclaim his family’s honour.  Imagining him successful was far better than envisioning him injured or even dead.  He only shared his hopes once, and the dwarves’ indignant doubt at the possibility that Sue had been killed by a weak and puny human had shocked him.  Rachel’s scorn had been especially harsh, and he had even avoided her for a full day before he had been ready to forgive her.  Other members of the Company seemed to finally see the tension growing between their leader and their burglar, and a few of them seemed to be rather more on Kurt’s side.  Artie and Brittany were both avoiding Rachel, leaving their older siblings to run interference with the princess.  Mercedes took to pulling Rachel into lengthy conferences whenever the princess seemed to be particularly ornery, casting an apologetic at whomever might be around.  And Mike disappeared into the depths of the caves for a full day, returning with armfuls of dried herbs and bandages with no other explanation for where he’d been.

 

They had no real sight of the sun for the first week or so, but the first focus of the dwarves was to get the front gates cleared and then rebuilt, battlements and all, so Kurt was able to get up and out into the fresh air and sunlight sooner than he had hoped, though it still felt like it had been far too long.  They were clearly into winter. but even without green and growing things, the soothing moist and cool scent was a balm to his soul.  He wasn’t allowed to spend much time up on the battlement, the dwarves being worried that the dragon might yet return, but he descended with his mood lightened.  It didn’t last long, however, as he came off the stairs to walk right into the middle of a raging fight between Rachel and Quinn.  He didn’t stick around to find out what the argument was about, but the venom in their voices was enough to have him hunching over, stress levels shooting back up.  Tensions seemed high in general that day, but Rachel was particularly prickly and she managed to pick fights with nearly every member of the Company.  By the time Kurt was bringing dinner to the table, all of them were doing their best to avoid her, and there was a palpable wave of relief when Mercedes announced that the princess would be eating in her room that evening.  She accepted a plate from Kurt with a weary look of gratitude and left with a loud burble of conversation following her.  Kurt was the only one who didn’t seem completely happy about Rachel’s absence, his mind focussed instead on his worries over her worsening behaviour.

 

He returned to the battlements the next morning, his mind still churning over the evidence it had been gathering, trying to find an explanation that wasn’t entirely problematic.  He wasn’t having much luck, and he was beginning to wonder if there might be something genuinely wrong with Rachel, something related to the Arkenstone, as that was what she kept asking for and about.

 

He was startled from his thoughts by his name being called, and he quickly looked to the side, where Tina and Puck had been standing guard.  Both dwarves were looking over the edge of the wall, shouting down at something.  He turned to the crenel next to himself, raising himself up on his toes to look over and down to the path in front of the gate.  Blaine sat there, mounted on a shaggy little pony and looking just as shuggy as his mount.  He seemed to be mostly uninjured, though he was well-worn, and his face looked thinner than Kurt remembered him being, with a partially healed scratch across one cheekbone.  Still, the sight of him sent a thrill of relief through Kurt, and he found himself leaning out further over the wall and balancing himself precariously in order to wave at the man.

 

“Kurt, hello!” Blaine shouted up, a small smile cracking his lips.  “I am glad to see you alive and well!”  
  
“I am also glad to see you,” Kurt responded with as much honesty as he could muster given that he was worried that Blaine’s presence might precipitate an explosion from one or more of the dwarves.  Puck was already heading down the stairs, undoubtedly to fetch Mercedes. if not Rachel.

 

“Here, but sadly not well,” Blaine interjected, and Kurt stiffened, having a fair idea of where the man was likely to be going.  His worst fears hadn’t come to fruition, but that didn’t mean that all was well.

 

“The dragon Sue descended on us several days ago, and although I was able to slay her, it was not before she burned Laketown down.  Now my people are homeless and have lost all their worldly possessions, so I have come to beg the assistance of the King Under the Mountain, to request that she provide us with shelter, and the funds and skilled crafts-dwarves necessary to rebuild Dale.”  Blaine’s gaze slipped over to the left of Kurt, and the hobbit  pulled himself back on the the battlement and turned to Rachel standing in the next crenel, staring down at the man dispassionately.

 

“And why should the dwarves of Erebor wish to help the men of Laketown?” she askel coldly.  “When Sue attacked us, you fled rather than stand with us.  When we returned to claim our mountain, you did not come to assist with her removal but send us off with nothing but some clothing and food.  None of our riches are owed to you beyond the value of those cold comforts.  So, if you would like to wait while we prepare an appropriately-sized purse, we will recompense you for that.”  She waved imperiously at Finn, who bowed despite the sour look on his face and trotted off down the stairs.  They all stood and waited in an uncomfortable tableau, the only sounds the jingling of the pony’s tack and the sighing of the wind over the sides of the mountain.  The silence was so profound that they could hear Finn’s footsteps returning long before they saw him.  He handed Rachel a fat purse, meeting her raised eyebrow with a stubborn tilt of his chin before stepping back.  Rachel eventually shrugged and tied a thin rope to the purse before lowering it over the edge of the wall and into Blaine’s waiting hands.  The man untied the rope, and Rachel quickly pulled it back up and turned to go.

 

“Berry!” Blaine barked, and Rachel stopped, hesitating for a long moment before she turned back.  “You know full well that you and yours owe us a great deal more than this.  Twice now you’ve brought a dragon down upon us who has destroyed all that we had.  This time you did it willfully, knowing that we were nearby and that Sue could still present a threat.  And yet you entered the mountain, roused her, and then sat here building up your walls while we struggled, defended ourselves, and then suffered anew.  There was a time that the dwarves of Erebor and the men of Dale were close to one another, and worked together to improve both of their peoples.  I would like to see that happen again, but it cannot happen if you insist on holding on to your wealth rather than helping us.”  
  
“What help could you ever hope to provide us?” Rachel scoffed, and Kurt watched Mercedes drop her head into her hands, shaking it slightly at the princess’ foolishness.  “We have the strength of our mountain, and will soon have more of our people here to make it what we will.  We can import in food from anywhere in these lands, or grow our own.  What else could we need?”  Her words caused Blaine’s face to shut down and grow cold, and the man turned his pony’s head away, pausing for long enough to look back up at Kurt.

 

“Mister Hummel, if you ever need somewhere to stay, we will do our best to give you succor.”  He bowed his head sharply and then trotted off, not waiting for a response from Kurt, who was grateful for it, as he was receiving questioning looks from the dwarves as it was.  He could only shrug at them, not entirely sure himself what the comment had been about.  Perhaps it was just an invitation to stop by on his way home, but it sounded like more than that, and the dwarves clearly thought so as well.  Except for Rachel, who didn’t seem to even notice that Blaine had said anything, simply staring after the man’s retreating back, apparently deep in thought.

 

“The whole place still stinks of dragon,” she grumbled to herself eventually, “and it makes me sick.  We should get back to cleaning.”  With that, she turned around and headed down the stairs, oblivious to the incredulous looks that followed her.  They stood still for several long moments, then the dwarves started to file down after her, muttering amongst themselves about what their leader had said.  Kurt stared after them, wondering what in the world had come over them.  He’d anticipated that they would call their princess - King - out on her behaviour, tell her that even if they didn’t give in to all of the men’s demands, they should still help them in some way, perhaps by offering their skills but not their funds.  But none of them was doing so, and a few of them even seemed to agree with her at least nominally, and Kurt couldn’t understand why.  Did none of them feel any responsibility for what their actions had wrought, or even any empathy for what the men of Laketown had gone through?  It seemed that he was the only one who was willing to do anything, and he was unsure of what that was.  He had his share of the treasure, but he wouldn’t be able to sneak it out without Rachel finding out, and he doubted she would let him give it to the men when she did.  Even if he could determine the most valuable items that he could carry and leave with them, he doubted it would be enough to fund even the smallest parts of the rebuilding.

 

Despite his hopelessness, he still tried to keep his mind open, looking for ways to help that would slip past Rachel’s notice.  He pretended to take interest in the King’s ramblings about the jewels she was sorting through, making note of the ones that Rachel described as particularly rare or valuable.  He spoke with Finn and Mercedes about the sorts of costs the men would be facing, and talked to Brittany, Tina, and Matt about the functional reality of rebuilding Dale.  None of them asked him why he was so interested, and the raised eyebrow he got from Mercedes indicated that she had guessed that he was planning to help despite Rachel’s likely disapproval.  None of them could have told the King, however, as she did not treat him with any distrust.  Instead, it almost seemed as though she was beginning to trust him more and more, even as she spent less and less time with her friends and family.  He couldn’t understand why, as he had broached the topic of helping Blaine and the men of Laketown at least twice, even if he hadn’t pushed far once Rachel shut the topic down harshly.

 

Three days after Blaine had first come by, he rode up to the gates again, this time accompanied by the elf lord that had imprisoned them in Mirkwood, mounted on a great elk that looked up at them as consideringly as its rider did.  Kurt was up on the battlements again, sadly surveying the remnants of the bridge that the dwarves had collapsed the day before, when the two arrived, and he had to restrain his instinct to wave to Blaine.  The man had a sternly dour look on his face, and although his eyebrows twitched when his gaze swept over Kurt he kept the mask on, looking up blankly at Rachel, who had come to the edge of the battlements.  Rachel looked down at him, just as impassive.

 

“Why does the King Under the Mountain fence herself in like a robber in her hole?” Blaine asked loudly.  “We have not come to rob you, but to seek fair settlement.  A share of the treasure so my people may rebuild their lives.”

 

“I will not treat with an armed host at my gates.  If you would speak with me further, dismiss the elvish host to the woods, lay down your own arms, and perhaps I will consider your request.”  Rachel’s voice was harshly cold, and even Kurt couldn’t begin to hope that she meant what she said.  Neither Blaine nor the elven king seemed to have any more hope, but Blaine nudged his horse a few steps further forward.

 

“Jean Baptiste and his people have brought us food and shelter, and agreed to aid us in rebuilding for the winter.  Why should we ask them to leave, when they have done more than you have, than you have even suggested you might?”  Rachel turned her head from his rebuttal, and Blaine backed his pony up again, his face once again a blank mask.

 

“What of some reward for Blaine, for the slaying of Sue?” the elf - Jean Baptiste - said, just loudly enough to be heard by Kurt, and undoubtedly low enough to make Rachel and the other dwarves strain to hear him.  Rachel looked at him with an incredible level of hatred, then raised one hand, Rory coming up beside her with an arrow nocked and drawn.

 

“Begone!” she roared, her voice filled with anger, “lest I let this arrow fly!”  She turned her back on the two of them, the disrespect clear in her demeanour.  Blaine huffed and turned away himself, but Jean Baptiste stared up at them for several moments more before he turned his head aside, his elk following the motion and turning around to follow Blaine’s pony.  Kurt let a loud sigh out, partly relieved that they were safe for the moment, and partly fearing the future repercussions of what had just taken place.  It was clear to him that Rachel was never going to give in unless she was forced to, and he wasn’t willing to see any more bloodshed, especially over something so meaningless.

 

The idea came to him overnight, a night he spent sleeping only intermittently and worrying the rest of the time.  Rachel had spent the remainder of the day alternating between searching for the Arkenstone and accusing all of them of stealing it.  All of them but Kurt, surprisingly, who she avoided for the most part, only seeking him out when she wanted food or to ask him about which rooms he’d looked in.  The remainder of the company seemed surprised by their King’s vitriol, except for Mercedes, who only looked sad.  Kurt had pulled her aside that evening shortly after dinner and hadn’t even had to ask her what was happening before she shook her head at him and pulled him further away.

 

“It’s dragon-sickness - I’ve seen it before. That look. That terrible need. It is a fierce and jealous love, Kurt. It sent her father mad.”  Mercedes’ voice was dour and dire, and her brow was furrowed, but Kurt still had to ask one question.

 

“And if she...had the Arkenstone...if it was found - Would it help?”  He had looked up hopefully, but the expression on Mercedes’ face immediately crushed it.

 

“That stone crowns all. It is the summit of this great wealth, bestowing power upon he or she who bears it. Will it stay her madness? No, lad; I fear it would make it worse. Perhaps it is best that it remains lost.”

 

Perhaps it would better if he made sure that it was found by someone that could use it to make Rachel do the right thing, Kurt thought.  He doubted they could keep it away from Rachel forever, the way she was going about her search.  It would be possible to throw the gem down a hole somewhere in the mines, if he knew where one that was deep enough was, but he didn’t, nor did he know enough of the mines to feel safe wandering about them looking for a safe disposal spot.  He didn’t want Rachel to ever get her hands on the Arkenstone, not if it was going to make her madness worse, but if she was liable to find it one way or another, it would be better that she be forced to aid the men in order to get it.

 

With his mind made up, Kurt spent the next day planning how he would get out of the mountain and then down to Dale, all without being caught.  He found several lengths of chain that he carried up to the top of the battlements, shrugging at Tina when she gave him a curious look, doing his best to imply that he had been told to do so without actually saying as much.  He found a small leather pouch, miraculously still intact, and packed the Arkenstone into it before tucking it back into its hiding place.  He even secreted some food in his travelling pack, tucking it off to one side of the kitchen where it would be easy for him to grab on his way out.

 

He was lingering by the kitchen, examining an acorn he’d picked up at Becky’s house, when Rachel came across him.  He tightened his hand around the acorn instinctively, not entirely trusting Rachel not to mock him for it, but as soon as he did so, he knew that it had been a mistake.  Her face shut down and she hurried towards him, darkness gathered around her like a cloud.

 

“What is that?!” she snapped, commandingly, “in your hand!  Show it to me!”  Kurt hesitated for a long moment, then opened his hand, holding it out towards her.

 

“I picked it up in Becky’s garden.  I want to plant it in my garden at Bag-End, when I get home.”  He smiled softly down at it.

 

“That seems like a poor price, for all of this,” Rachel said, her voice suddenly softer and more kindly.  Kurt looked up at her, and for a moment he saw the princess that had spoken with hope and love of her home.

 

“One day it will grow,” Kurt told her, still smiling.  “And everytime I look at it, I’ll remember - Remember everything that happened, the good, the bad.  And how lucky I am that I made it home.  How lucky I am that I was able to help you make it home.”  There was a moment where he thought he might truly have brought her back to herself, that she might relinquish her thirst for power in favour of a thirst for love and friendship.

 

“Master Hummel, come with me!” she ordered brusquely, suddenly turning away.  Kurt followed her immediately, his heart sinking into his stomach.  She led him into one of the rooms he had begun to pile treasures into, picking up a fine white-silver shirt of mail.

 

“You are going to need this,” she said, holding it out to him.  “Put it on.”  He took it, but didn’t put it on, instead holding it out and looking at it intensely.

 

“It’s made of silver steel - “Mithril” it was called by my forebears.  No blade can pierce it.”  Kurt sighed and slipped it on looking down at himself in distaste.

 

“I look absurd. I’m not a warrior; I’m a Hobbit,” he said, trying not to sound too much like he was whining.

 

“It is a gift,” Rachel assured him.  “A token of our friendship. True friends are hard to come by.”  She looked side to side and drew him close, lowering her voice.  “I have been blind. Now I begin to see. I am betrayed!”

 

“Betrayed?” Kurt asked, his heart suddenly jumping into his throat.

 

“The Arkenstone,” Rachel hissed, her eyes narrowing.  Kurt tried very hard to avoid looking shifty and instead put a look of intense confusion on his face.  “One of them has taken it.  One of them is false.”

 

“Rachel,” Kurt said hesitantly, “the quest is fulfilled. You’ve won the mountain. Is that not enough?  You made a promise...to the people of Laketown. Is-Is this treasure truly worth more than your honor? Our honor, Rachel. I was also there, I gave my word.”

 

“And I am grateful for that; it was nobly done. But the treasure in this mountain does not belong to the people of Laketown! This treasure...is ours...and ours alone. By my life I will not part with a single piece! Not...one...piece of it!”  The look on Rachel’s face was terrifying, cold, greedy, and horribly reminiscent of Sue.  Kurt shut his mouth instantly, looking away and letting Rachel continue on her way, satisfied that she had won his cooperation.  Instead, Kurt’s resolve was firmed, any doubts he might have had wiped out in that instant.  His preparations were nearly complete, so he went to the battlements, covering his surveillance of the valley under the cover of catching his daily breath of fresh air.  It had taken them the better part of a day to make their way up to the gates, but they had been taking a steady pace, and the days were much shorter than the nights, so he hoped that he could make it there and back mostly under the cover of darkness, if he was able to leave early enough and keep his stop with Blain and Jean Baptiste short enough.

 

With that in mind, he played up his anxiety and nerves as an upset stomach and onset of a stomach flu.  All of the dwarves seemed concerned but wanted to avoid him, an aversion to sickness that he had noticed when he was bedridden in Laketown.  He used it to nominally head to bed early, leaving the evening meal in Quinn’s hands, and when she called the rest to it, he slipped out of his room, leaving a pile of cushions tucked under his blanket that he hoped would pass scrutiny.  He slipped his ring on and ghosted through the hallways, retrieving his pack first, and then the satchel containing the Arkenstone, which he wrapped well in the cloak before tucking it into his pack.  From there, he headed to the top of the battlements, where he secured one end of the chain in a crack and began to slowly let down the other end, link by painstaking link.  Puck was set to watch, but he was busy with his meal and his back was to Kurt, so he did not see the chain slowly unwind and lower itself, nor did he hear the few faint clinks over the howling of the night wind.  When the chain was fully lowered, Kurt hid the end that was on the wall with loose stone, then carefully lowered himself over the edge and began a slow and terrifying climb.

 

After his descent from the battlements, the journey to Dale seemed like nothing more than a boring procession of scenery, though as the hours wore on and dusk descended into true night, Kurt could feel himself flagging, his adrenaline waning as he passed well out of Rachel’s reach.  He continued to push himself, knowing that he had little time to waste on leisurely strolls or a relative lack of energy.  The path was relatively smooth under his feet, so he kept to a pattern of fast walking and light jogging, for once grateful of the lengthy journey that had brought him to Erebor, for he would never have been able to cover such a distance in any kind of reasonable time were it not for his increased fitness.  Still, he was breathing heavily by the time he reached the gates, and he barely had time to take off his ring before the elven guards were upon him, alerted by the noise he was making.

 

“Who are you?”  “Are you the dwarves’ hobbit?”  “What are you doing?”  “How did you get past our outriders?”  The questions came quickly, and he had to hold up his hands in a gestured that pleaded for them to give him a chance to actually answer each query.

 

“I am Kurt Hummel, and yes, I was one of Rachel’s companions.  How I made it here is not a question for this moment.  I know your king by sight, though he may not know me, and the man Blaine is an acquaintance.  It is him that I have come to see, if you would bring me to him - or him to me, if you would prefer.”

 

“Indeed!” they said, “and what may be your business?”

 

“Whatever it is, it’s my own,” he answered tartly.  “But if you want to ever have hope of getting back to your own woods from this cold cheerless place, you will take me to speak to your chiefs as quick as may be. I only have an hour or two to spare before I must be off again.”  And after that he wouldn’t say any more, and it only took a few minutes of unanswered questions before they bundled him along to a well-furnished tent, where they left him with a blanket and a brazier and a small dish containing piping hot tea and a small selection of fruits and breads, which he helped himself to happily, finding it vastly preferable to what he’d secreted in his own pack.

 

He waited perhaps a quarter of an hour before Blaine and Jean Baptiste were being escorted into the tent, and Blaine’s look of shock at Kurt’s presence was amusing to the hobbit, though he took care to hide it.  The elvish King seemed both less pleased and less surprised, and quite bluntly got right to the business at hand and asked why Kurt had deserted his friends and come to them.

 

“I don’t see it as deserting,” Kurt told him shortly.  “More as setting things aright.  I am tired of this whole affair, and while I would dearly like to be heading back west to my own home, I feel I have a duty to those dwarves, though they might prefer that I didn’t. Still, I have an interest in this matter - a right to one fourteenth of the profits, with the contract to prove it - and I am willing to use it to end this disagreement and the threat of war and at minimum set up trade between the men of Dale and the dwarves of Erebor.

 

“This says that you have a share in the profits,” Blaine said, looking up from the contract that Kurt had placed on the table.  Kurt shrugged.

 

“I am aware of that,” he admitted.  “But while I am personally only too ready to consider all your claims carefully, and deduct what is right from the total before putting in my own claim, I know Rachel better than any of you, and she is quite ready to sit on a heap of gold and starve, as long as you sit here.”

 

“Well, then let her!” Blaine urged him, with such vehemence that the elven King arched an eyebrow “Such a fool deserves to starve.”

 

“I understand why you say that,” Kurt told him gently.  “But there is more than that to consider.  Winter is coming on fast, nearly here in fact, and before long you will be having snow and moving supplies will be difficult—even for elves I imagine. And there will be more difficulties, I am sure.  I have heard Rachel say that her cousin is bringing his dwarves from the Iron Hills.”

 

“What has he got to do with us?” asked Jean Baptiste, his voice coolly disinterested.

 

“He is now less than two days’ march off, and has at least five hundred grim dwarves with him—a good many of them have had experience in the dreadful dwarf and goblin wars, of which you have no doubt heard. When they arrive there may be serious trouble.”  Kurt could not entirely keep his disdain out of his voice, not entirely sure why the elf was pretending that such a force was not worth some concern.

 

“Why do you tell us this? Are you betraying your friends, or are you threatening us?” Blaine asked him suddenly, his expression suspicious.

 

“I don’t want to see any blood shed that is not necessary,” Kurt said sharply, “whether that of man, elf, or dwarf.  I am trying to avoid trouble for all concerned, yourselves as well as Rachel.  And that is why I have come with an offer.”  He looked at them with impatient expectation and both of them gestured for him to go on, Blaine with some shame on his face.

 

“I would give you this,” Kurt said once he was sure they were prepared, and he pulled the Arkenstone from his pack, discarding the wrapping on the table to hold it at their eye level.  Both of them gazed on it in awe, clearly not having expected anything of the sort.  “This is the Arkenstone, the Heart of the Mountain.  I believe it may as well also be Rachel’s heart.  She values it above all else in the mountain, and I would give it to you to aid in your bargaining.”  He placed it on the table, feeling simultaneous desire and revulsion as he looked at it, feeling its song humming in his bones.

 

“How is it yours to give?” Blaine asked once he managed to drag his eyes away from the magnificent gem.

 

“It isn’t exactly; but I have taken it as my fourteenth share of the treasure.  Not for you,” Kurt said, forestalling the words he saw Blaine starting to form.  “I know that dwarves can be obstinate and pigheaded and difficult, suspicious and secretive…with the worst manners you can possibly imagine, but they also brave and kind...and loyal to a fault. I’ve grown very fond of them, and I would save them if I can.  I believe that, for this, Rachel will give you what you are owed and there will be no need for war.”

 

“You are more worthy to wear the armour of elf-princes than many that have looked more comely in it, Kurt Hummel” Jean Baptiste said with awe, gesturing to the shirt of mithril that was just poking out of the collar of Kurt’s coat.  “I wonder if Rachel Berry will see things that way. I have more knowledge of dwarves in general than you have perhaps, and I fear for your safety if you were to return to her side. I advise you to remain with us, and you shall be honoured and thrice welcome.”

 

“Thank you very much I am sure,” Kurt said with honesty, bobbing his head in an aborted bow. “I don’t think I ought to leave my friends like this, after all we have gone through together. I must be going, and quickly, so that I am back before the dawn.”  He refused to hear any more of their protests, so they asked him to wait long enough for them to give him a pony to ride part of the way, and then left him in the tent to himself.

 

Shortly after they left, a man wrapped in a dark cloak slipped into the tent, and before Kurt could draw his sword, the man pushed the hood back from his face.  Kurt was surprised to see that it was William, and he nearly shouted in surprise, but the wizard gestured for silence.

 

“Well done, Kurt” he said, coming to clap Kurt on the back. “There is always more about you than anyone expects!  But be wary, for Rachel will not be likely to forgive you for this.  If you can, hide that you are the one who has done this deed from her for as long as you can.  I will do my best to protect you, if it comes to that, but I cannot be everywhere at once.”  Kurt opened his mouth to ask one of the multitude of questions that were dancing through his head, but William gestured him to silence again.

 

“All will be answered in good time!” the wizard told him. “Things are drawing towards the end now, unless I am mistaken. There is an unpleasant time for you coming, but keep your heart up and you may come through all right. There is news brewing that even the elves have not heard. Good night!”  And with that, William was gone.  Kurt jumped to the door of the tent, sticking his head out to find the wizard, but all he could see was the puzzled guard, who was staring at him as though he were mad.

 

All throughout his journey back to the mountain, Kurt’s mind whirled as he attempted to puzzle through William’s tidings.  They had seemed positive, but what could the unpleasant time that was coming be?  What tidings could have escaped the notice of the elves?  Instead of answers, he kept coming up with more questions, and he nearly got himself caught while climbing the chain back up to the battlements because of them, Puck’s head leaning out over the edge in response to a faint jingle.  Kurt had to ruthlessly force himself back to the present and he held as still as possible until the dwarf went back to his small campfire and his nest of blankets.  He left the chain dangling once he was securely on the top of the wall, wanting to avoid detection and reasoning that only another invisible being would be able to climb it undetected.  Despite the activity of his mind, he was eager to see his bed, and he only had enough presence of mind to slip off his ring, coat, and mithril shirt before he bundled himself into it and was almost immediately asleep.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

 

Kurt was awoken by a loud, thundering horn the next morning, far earlier than he had hoped.  He sighed out a compaint, but rolled himself out of bed nonetheless, not wanting to miss what he knew was about to come.  He managed to gather himself enough to pull on some clothes and collect his pack from where he’d propped it up against the wall, knowing that there was the distinct possibility that he was going to be asked to leave - or rather, abruptly ousted from the mountain.  He just hoped that William could indeed protect him, because he didn’t think that he could lie to Rachel’s face about his involvement.  It wasn’t entirely because he was proud of his actions, though there was certainly some of that to it.  Mostly, he felt that he owed it to the dwarves to be honest with them, even after the fact.  Still, he was reluctant to go and face the consequences of what he had done, so although he hurried up to the battlements to see what was going on, he lingered at the back of the Company, watching Blaine and Jean Baptiste as they rode up to the gates, only stepping forward when they disappeared from his sight behind the wall’s edge.

 

“So, Rachel, are you still of the same mind?” Blaine asked, his voice at least pretending to be polite.  The dwarf’s answer was to wave Rory forward, the younger dwarf shooting an arrow into the dirt right at the man’s feet.

 

“Come any closer and I will put the next one between your eyes!” Rachel roared down, and Blaine took a step backwards to rejoin Jean Baptiste, his hands held up in surrender.

 

“We’ve come to tell you: payment of your debt has been offered...and accepted.”  Rachel reacted with visible shock to Jean Baptiste’s words, her face paling and then going bright red.

 

“What payment? I gave you nothing! You have nothing!”  Her words were barely intelligible, and she looked torn between hanging herself out over the battlements and turning and heading back inside.  Only Blaine’s movement of drawing forth a bag decided her, and she watched avidly as he reached inside, drawing forth a large object wrapped in leather.

 

“We have this,” the man said, allowing the wrappings to fall and reveal the Arkenstone, which he then lifted high to ensure that all of the dwarves and the company of men and elves that had escorted the two leaders could see what it was he held.

 

“They have the Arkenstone?” Rory hissed to the rest of the Company with shock in his voice, as though none of them could see that for themselves.  “Thieves! How came you by this? That stone belongs to the King!”  Rachel said nothing, simply looking at the stone with glittering eyes.

 

“The King may have it, and our good will, as soon as she honours her word,” Blaine informed him, tucking the gem back into the bag and passing it back to one of his men, who quickly took it out of bowshot.

 

“They take us for fools,” Rachel suddenly said, her voice scornful.  “This is nothing more than a ruse, a filthy lie.  The Arkenstone is still in the mountain.”  She turned away from the men and elves and began to push her way through her dwarves, heading towards the stairs and ignoring the shocked looks she was getting.  None of them could believe that she was so mad as to not see what was right in front of her, but it seemed that was indeed the case.  Mercedes, Sam, and Rory all tried to stop her as she walked past, but Rachel was deaf to their pleas, simply brushing them off as though nothing they were saying mattered, as though none of them mattered.  The looks on Sam and Rory’s faces broke Kurt’s heart, and he found himself stepping in front of Rachel before he even really thought about it.

 

“It’s no trick,” he said loudly, then flinched back a little when she turned to look at him.

 

“What did you say?” she hissed, her face going flat.

 

“It’s not a trick,” he repeated.  “That’s the Arkenstone.”

 

“And how would you know?”  Kurt braced himself for the reaction, but he knew that he’d gone too far to back down now.

 

“I gave it to them.  I took it as my fourteenth share.”

 

“You stole from me?” Rachel nearly screamed, right up in his face, her own face suddenly flushed as red as it had previously been white.

 

“Stole from you?” Kurt asked, trying to keep his voice light.  “No. I may be a burglar, but I like to think I’m an honest one. I’m letting it stand against my claim.”

 

“Against your claim?! Your claim! You have no claim over me you miserable rat!”  Rachel was spitting mad, literally, and Kurt was legitimately concerned that she was ready to hit him.  Still, he drew himself a little straighter, staring up into the dwarf King’s eyes challengingly.

 

“You’ve changed, Rachel! The dwarf I met in Bag End would never have gone back on her word! Would never have doubted the loyalty of her kin!”  He stepped back when he saw her muscles twitch, but she restrained herself when a few of the others stepped forward,  having seen the same thing.

 

“Do not speak to me of loyalty!”  Rachel said, stepping forward to close the space Kurt had created.  “Clearly you have none.”  She seized him by the arms, pushing him back until he was up against a crenel, his back bent over so that his head was out over open air.

 

“CURSE YOU!” she screamed, pushing him even further over the edge, until his feet were kicking uselessly in the air.  Kurt was ready to accept his death, but suddenly Rachel was being pulled off of him, the dwarves congregating around her to herd her away.  He righted himself and stood stunned, watching as the dwarf King raged and gnashed her teeth at him, despite the barrier her kin formed.

 

“Curse William for forcing you on this Company,” Rachel shouted, and Kurt flinched away, turning towards the parapets to look for the chain he had used the night before.  Suddenly, there was a body hurtling into his back, and he had to hold on tightly in order to stay on the top of the wall.

 

“If you don’t like my burglar,” William boomed out, before continuing at a lower volume, “then please don’t damage him.  Return him to me! You’re not making a very splendid figure as King Under the Mountain, are you Rachel?”  Kurt looked up as soon as Brittany pushed herself away from him and saw that William had ridden through the crowd to stand at the base of the wall, looking up at the group of them with a seemingly dispassionate look.  He didn’t get much more of a look, though, as Brittany was pushing him towards the chain, hissing at him to go.  He did, grateful that his pack was still on his back, with the few possessions he actually cared about packed in it.  He was over the side of the wall in an instant, climbing down the chain as fast as he could.  He was halfway down when he heard Rachel shouting invectives at William, and he climbed all the faster in the fear that she was free to loose the top of the chain.

 

“Are we resolved? The return of the Arkenstone for what was promised?”  Blaine asked, though Kurt, finally arriving at the ground, looked up to see that Rachel wasn’t even looking at them, instead staring off in the distance.  “Give us your answer! Will you have peace or war?”  Suddenly, a large raven flapped up and landed on the merlon beside Rachel.  The King looked up and smiled at it,, then her face hardened as she looked back down at the crowd of men and elves.

 

“I will have war,” she responded, her eyes alight with a fierce fire.  A loud horn call suddenly erupted from the hills to the east, and they all turned to see an army of dwarves marching over the last of them, rank after rank of them, marching in step, holding a variety of axes, hammers, swords, and even maces and flails, and all outfitted in matching armour.  They all stopped suddenly, and one of the stepped forwards until he was standing on a slightly raised rock, looking out over of them with an air of command.

 

“We are hastening to our kinsmen in the Mountain,” he called out, “since we have learned that the kingdom of old is renewed. But who are you that sit in the plain as foes before defended walls?”  His words were polite, but his tone was rude, and Kurt could feel Blaine and Jean Baptiste bristling at it from either side.  Even William seemed to be standing a little taller in response to the implications carried in the two simple sentences.

 

They were all bracing for the inevitable clash of the armies, when there was an ominous rumbling in the ground and a great cloud of black began to cover the skies.  It took Kurt a long moment to recognize that the cloud was made up of numerous birds, cawing out a song of alarm, one that he could almost discern lyrics to.  All of the men and dwarves ducked and shouted in alarm, though most of the elves simply looked about in concern.  Until suddenly the ground along one of the outstretched arms of the mountain erupted, with great worms emerging from holes, their mouths filled with dirt and teeth.  Even the elves reacted with fear at that, their faces blanching even paler than usual.  There wasn’t much of a chance for them to deal with that fear, though, as the worms quickly retreated, and orcs and wargs poured out of the holes that they had left behind them, erupting like a geyser and flowing forth in wave after wave.

 

From there, things became a blur for Kurt, especially once he slipped out of the crowd and put on his ring, using his invisibility to slip in and out of the fray, slicing with his sword where he could, getting in and out as quickly as possible.  The elves fought with a kind of cold hatred, their spears and swords shining in the gloom with a gleam of chill flame, moving with a deadly kind of wrath that awed Kurt in the moments he had to admire it.  In contrast, the dwarves were all fire and brimstone, their beards and braids bristling and their axes sweeping, hammers smashing, and maces swinging.  None of them ever fell back, even to take a more strategic position, and every time one of them fell, it was inevitably while taking several with him or her.  The humans were all over the map, some of them as brave as could be and some of them retreating as soon as they faced any opposition, some of them rushing in madly and some of them taking much the same tactics as Kurt did, though without the benefit of invisibility.

 

Kurt wasn’t sure when Rachel and her Company joined the battle, but he knew when they began to draw in the stragglers of each of the armies, the battle spinning itself around them in ever tightening circles, bringing both support and enemies.  Kurt tried to work his way inwards, but the press was far too strong for him to make it more than a few steps into the furor.  He did his best to pick off the Orcs and Wargs on the outside, but every few minutes, he felt himself pushed another few steps back, ricocheting off thick bodies, dodging swords, and tripping over limbs.  Finally, he had to retreat, back up to the top of Ravenhill where Jean Baptiste and William waited, observing and trying their best to direct the battle with the few groups of warriors they had left to them.  William was only partially attentive, and he seemed to be gathering his energy and power to finish things when absolutely necessary.  Which seemed to be imminent, something Kurt could see from the position he was now in, the waves of Orcs seeming endless, a darkness that covered the valley and still poured through the holes in the mountain’s side.  He wished that he could do something, and even stooped to pick up rocks to pitch at any Orc heads that he could see, knocking at least a few of them out.  He wished that he could get at Jesse, who was standing at the back of his armies, over by the holes they were coming out of, urging them onwards with shouts in some dark language.

 

Just when things seemed most dire, when the sky was darkest, there was a sudden gust of wind and the clouds began to shred apart, letting in the last rays of the setting sun peek through and slash the mountain with a red that was even brighter than the blood that covered its lower slopes.  Through those clouds, there came the flickering of movement, flickering that turned into fuzzy shapes, raising hope in Kurt’s heart.  He slipped his ring off, waving his arms in excitement once he was visible again, trying to get the attention of the nearby elves..

 

“The Eagles!” he shouted as the shapes resolved themselves.  “The Eagles are coming!”  William jumped to his feet, coming to stand beside Kurt and look up into the sky, a small smile on his lips.

 

“Indeed they are,” he said warmly, clapping a hand on Kurt’s shoulder, then turning to the elves and waving his hand.  Jean Baptiste nodded and waved back, then gestured to the small company of elves that were still clustered around him, defending him, and they grouped up and then descended from the hill, their King in their midst.  Kurt returned to observing the battlefield and was horrified to see that Jesse was coming up behind the Company, using the break in their line caused by an injured Artie, who was tucked into the corner of two rocks with his brothers standing over him protectively.  Without a second thought, Kurt began to hurl himself down the slope in front of him, even though he knew in the back of his mind that he would never be able to reach the Company in time.  He forgot that he wasn’t wearing his ring, forgot that he was so much smaller than the enemies he was running full speed at, forgot everything but the danger his friends were facing.  It wasn’t until the back ranks of the Orcs started turning to look at him that he even realized that he was shouting Rachel’s name, trying to warn her even when he knew she couldn’t hear.

 

He thundered into the Orcs, flailing about with his sword wildly, and only pure luck kept him from losing his head or a limb.  He was shorter than any foe the creatures had faced before, and they kept swinging too high, letting him slip in under them and stab them in their torsos.  It took him several long moments before he managed to find a quiet spot, and he fumbled around in his pocket for his ring, hoping that he could be of more use once he was invisible.  He never saw the hammer that hit him in the head, just the eruption of sparkling lights and then blackness that descended on him.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

 

“That’s as much as I can remember,” Kurt said, looking down at the book that was open in his lap, his scribbled notes covering the pages in an untidy scrawl.  Tina nodded gruffly while Mercedes patted his knee in sympathy.

 

“That’s more than enough,” Mercedes told him, her voice soft and kind.  “You saw things from an angle none of us were able to, and you’ve filled in a few blanks for us as well.”

 

“Then will you tell me what happened once I was knocked out?” he asked hopefully, hauling himself up slightly.  He’d been bedridden for weeks, the elven healer saying that he had injured his neck, and it was the first day he’d been allowed out of the metal brace that he’d been strapped into shortly after awakening.  The majority of the Company had come to visit him, but he’d noticed that Rachel, Sam, and Rory were all conspicuously absent, and he was alternating between worrying that they were all dead and fearing that they would never be able to forgive him for handing the Arkenstone over to Blaine and Jean Baptiste.  None of the others would tell him where they were, which only lent credence to the theory that there was something very wrong.  Tina’s sigh at his request gave him no more hope, but Mercedes shook her head at her sister and stepped forward to stand at the foot of Kurt’s bed.

 

“Jesse and his personal guard attacked Rachel while the rest of us were occupied, and they managed to get through to her, even though Sam and Rory tried to come to her rescue.”  Mercedes paused, her head hanging, and Kurt’s heart jumped into his throat, choking him up.  He reached out, and was surprised when Tina took it, giving it a gentle squeeze.

 

“Rachel killed Jesse, but not before he’d stabbed her, and injured Sam and Rory as well,” Mercedes continued after a long silence.

 

“Are they...” Kurt blurted out, and then clapped a hand over his mouth.

 

“They’re still alive, but Rachel and Rory are both still unconscious and the elves aren’t sure that any of them will make it,” Tina told him bluntly, squeezing his hand again.  “It’s been a month and still no real signs that they’ll recover.”

 

“Can I see them?” Kurt asked instantly, looking to and from the two dwarves hopefully.  They both looked doubtful, but Mercedes promised to ask the elven healers to see if both he and the King and her nephews were capable of handling a visit.  It was more than Kurt had truly hoped for, so he willingly leaned back against the pillows again, resuming his note-taking.  He’d started with his memories of the battle under the pressure of his feelings, but he’d been working his way backwards through his journey, noting down not only the important incidents, but his memories of feelings, sensations, and thoughts.  He had the thought of turning it into a proper book, though he wasn’t sure who would want to read it if he did.  Still, it might be nice just for his own sake, to read through in the future and reminisce.

 

It took the better part of a week before the healers were ready to sign off on Kurt moving any further than the toilet attached to his room, a week in which Sam’s condition continued to fluctuate and Rachel and Rory stayed unconscious.  Kurt still wasn’t strong, having to cling to Tina’s arm as he shuffled down the hallway towards their rooms, but he was determined to see them, regardless of his own infirmity.  Mercedes and the healers had tried to discourage him, telling him that it wouldn’t do him any good, nor would it help them, but he had persisted until they had given in, one of the elves muttering in Sindarin that if he was strong enough to argue so fiercely, he was strong enough to handle seeing the state his friends were in.  Kurt had given him a sharp smile, a smile that softened slightly when the dwarves sighed and nodded when the elves told them that he could do it if he wished.

 

He did stumble slightly when he walked into the first room to see Rory on the bed, pale and unmoving, except for the slight rise and fall of his chest.  Tina caught him and opened her mouth, but shut it again when he shook his head and drew himself upright again, steadfastly moving forward once he was rebalanced.  There was a chair drawn up to the side of the bed, and he lowered himself into it gently, leaning forward to grasp Rory’s hand.  It was cool to the touch, and limp and slightly damp, and no matter how long Kurt sat there squeezing it, it didn’t move or stir, just grew warmer from his own body heat.  Tina finally laid a hand on his shoulder, and he startled slightly, and then let go of Rory’s hand, standing up and taking Tina’s arm when it was offered.  They continued onward to Sam’s room, where they found the older of the two brothers sleeping peacefully.  He stirred long enough to smile at them, though his eyes were unfocused and he lapsed back into sleep within a few minutes, leaving Kurt staring at him with concern.

 

“Brace yourself,” Tina said as they left Sam’s room, continuing onwards to where Rachel was being kept.  “This is even less pretty than those two.”  Kurt couldn’t imagine what had happened to the King, but he knew that he still wanted to see her, to settle his own feelings if not to hear forgiveness from her for what he had done.  Still, he was taken aback to see her entire head swathed in bandages, only her eyes and mouth peeking it out from under them.  He sat down in the chair beside her bed far more heavily than he had intended, his heart fluttering in his chest in a strange combination of fear, anger and distress.  He didn’t even dare take her hands, for they too were wound about with bandages and rested carefully on the top of the blanket covering her.

 

“What happened?” Kurt managed to whisper, forced out around the lump in his throat.

 

“Jesse and his Orcs went straight for her, and did everything they could to take her out.  She took many blows, including several to her head and at least one to each hand.  The elves were able to save all her fingers, at least for now, but they’re not sure they will all work properly, if she ever wakes up.”  Kurt looked up at Tina, knowing his eyes were more than a little moist, but not being able to stand looking at Rachel for any longer.  Tina seemed to interpret his desires from that one look, for she helped him up out of the chair and led him from the room without a word passing between them.  Kurt could feel that his legs were far more shaky than they had been upon leaving his room, and he ended up leaning on Tina more than he had intended to as they slowly made their way back to his room.

 

Over the next few days, Kurt forced himself to continue visiting Rachel, Rory, and Sam, and he was able to exchange a few words with Sam, though the young dwarf was often muddled in his thoughts and words.  Still, his periods of lucidness were slowly increasing, which was enough for all of them to have some hope that he would make it.  When they spoke, both of them avoided the subject of the battle and the two dwarves unconscious in the adjoining rooms, instead discussing the changes in the mountain, at least the ones that Kurt had been able to see in his heavily restricted wanderings.  In comparison, the time he spent sitting at Rachel and Rory’s sides, silently holding their hands, was even more depressing, though he would never admit such to anyone, instead attending them every day, regardless of his feelings.

 

It was because of that insistence that he was there the day Rory woke up, though he was only just arriving when the elf that had been checking on the younger prince went racing by, the expression of joy on his face the only thing that kept Kurt’s heart beating.  Still, Kurt and Quinn - his accompaniment for the day - hurried into the room, only to both sag in relief when they saw Rory sitting upright and blinking blurrily.  Miraculously, he seemed to be in perfectly fine condition mentally, though his hands were shaky and weak and Kurt had to hold a glass of water for him so that he could drink.  They didn’t get to stay for long, as the healers wanted to do a thorough examination, but both Kurt and Quinn left in much higher spirits, bolstered by the weak but still present hugs they had insisted on receiving.  And although it was still upsetting to sit by Rachel’s side without any response from her, Kurt still returned to his room feeling like there was hope.

 

He wasn’t there when Rachel finally awoke, nearly two full months after the battle, and he was prevented from making his usual stop to see her for two days after she returned to them, while her cousin, the elf king, and Blaine all stopped by to see her and very briefly discuss their plans for the short-term future.  He tried not to resent them for their insistence on doing business with her when she had so recently been on death’s door, but he could appreciate that they all wanted to ensure that there would be no more bloodshed over the treasure of Erebor.  Judging by their faces when they sat at the high table each night, negotiations were going well, though they weren’t getting everything they wanted.  Kurt tried his best to put their purpose to the side of his mind and instead enjoy the music that was spawned by the commingling of three very disparate races.  He still visited Sam and Rory for an hour every day, but the rest of his time was spent in the company of various elves, men, and dwarves, all of whom were trading traditional songs like they were some form of currency.  He memorized as many as he could, and even ended up singing a few of the hobbit songs he knew they would enjoy.

 

He was finally summoned to Rachel’s bedside on the third day that she was awake, and he hurried to clean himself up before walking to her room, reminding himself to stay calm until he had proof that he was being sent home.  He’d still had hope that she would forgive him until he had been kept away for so long, not even being allowed to duck in and welcome her back, as the rest of the Company had done.  Instead, he’d been turned away at the end of the hall by whatever dwarf was standing guard, with pitying looks being thrown after him and soft reassurances that it was just because the King was busy or tired.  Only he came back every few hours, and she was always busy or tired, and he was always turned away.  Until now, when he had been summoned by her, to what he assumed was going to be a very uncomfortable discussion of how he was no longer welcome in Erebor.  He only hoped that he was given enough time to say goodbye to everyone he had met as well as all of the Company before he was forced to leave.

 

He was nodded into Rachel’s room by the guard, but he couldn’t see her immediately when he entered, and it wasn’t until her voice called him from the desk set in the corner behind the desk.  He turned, somehow surprised to see her up and about, though she was actually ensconced in a deep chair, leaning heavily against its back.  Her eyes were sunken and weary, and she was far thinner than she had ever been during their journey.  She waved him over to the chair he had been using when he visited her, and he dropped down into it with his knees gone weak, unable to take his eyes off her.  She smiled gently at him, giving him several long moments to accustom himself to the fact that she was alive but not well.

 

“I’m so sorry,” he managed to force out, clearly taking Rachel aback, and she managed to lean herself forward to peer at him intently.

 

“You have nothing to apologize for,” she told him seriously, before leaning back again, her face a mask of pain.  “Instead, it is I that should apologize, for I wish to part from you in friendship.  I would take back my words and deeds at the gate.  You did only what a true friend would do, and I was too blind with greed and rage to see it, and for that, I am sorry.  And I am sorry for having led you into such peril.”

 

“No, no Rachel,” Kurt said, holding one hand out.  “I am glad to have shared in your quest, every step of the way, every peril that we faced.  Even you, as perilous as you were.”  He smiled slightly, hoping to take the sting out of his words, and Rachel’s face trembled into a small smile of her own.  “I simply wish that I had been able to do more to protect and help you during the battle,” he added self-effacingly, blushing and looking down at his hands, which were twisted together in his lap.

 

“You have done more than enough,” Rachel told him, her hands flapping at him in dismissal.  “There is more in you of good than you know, some courage and some wisdom. If more of us valued song and cheer and food above our hoards, it would be a merrier world.”  The words were enough to have Kurt teary-eyed, and he stood up and walked over to hug her, mindful of her injuries.  The fact that she hugged back made him feel much more hopeful, and though he knew that there was still the risk of her dying, he was able to tell himself that all would be well, given enough time.

 

His prediction proved true over the new few months, as Rachel, Sam, and Rory all recovered slowly but surely, going from mostly bedridden to slowly moving as the winter waned on.  There were days that Kurt wished that he was back in his hobbit hole, mostly the ones where they were snowed into the mountain until some of the dwarves could get out to clear paths towards Dale, but those were few and far between and he mostly spent his time enjoying the songs and stories that were still being shared by the amassed dwarves, elves, and men or catching up with the Company as much as possible.  All of them had jobs serving Rachel, which meant that they were getting busier every day as Rachel took up more and more of her tasks and made more work for them.  They all seemed happy, though, and when they could make time for him, they chattered on about the things they were doing, and the changes they were making to the mountain.  Brittany and Santana had taken charge of rebuilding the rooms that Sue had destroyed, and as they told him - Santana speaking through Brittany - they were thrilled with the improvements they would be able to make beyond what the original builders had built.  Quinn was in charge of the kitchens, and although she occasionally griped about the neediness of the elves that would stay for a week at a time, she seemed quite happy with her responsibilities.  The rest of the Company said much the same, from Finn who was organizing the beginnings of a market, to Artie who had taken charge of the library, trying to restore it to its former glory.

 

Winter slowly melted into spring, the days slowly lengthening and warming, and still Kurt lingered at the mountain, not wanting to leave quite yet.  Still, the rest of the Company were moving on with their own lives, and he was finding that he spent increasing amounts of time on his own, either wandering about or helping out in little ways where he could, feeling more useless as the days went on.  It wasn’t until William returned that Kurt realized that he was ready to move on, even though he wasn’t willing to acknowledge that it would mean leaving his friends.  For a hobbit who had spent the majority of his time alone except for his family, he was surprised by how close he had grown to the dwarves, even though he knew logically that it was a more than reasonable side-effect of how much time they had spent together.  Despite this, he knew that it was time, so that evening, he went to see Rachel.

 

“It’s time for me to leave,” he told her, “as much as I’d love to stay.  If I’m gone much longer, I’m sure that my cousins will be happy to take all of my things and my home as well.”  Rachel looked disappointed, but her lips twitched at Kurt’s words.  She nodded, but held up her hand when he went to leave.

 

“We are sending some dwarves back to the Blue Mountains to act as an escort for the remainder of our kin.  If you wait a week, you can travel with them as far as the Shire.  It would be far safer for you that way.  Tina and Puck will be going with them as well.”  It was an offer that Kurt couldn’t refuse, which Rachel must have known.  It was also a good way to ensure that he had more than enough time to make his farewells, though a part of him wanted to spend the week pretending that he wasn’t leaving.  He didn’t, though, knowing that he might not be able to find all thirteen of them a short time before he left, and so he made sure to spend some time with each of them, even when it meant that he was conscripted into helping in the kitchen or the library.

 

Finally, the day of his departure arrived, and he found himself faced with Rachel, a veritable pile of chests filled with treasure.

  
“No,” he told her flatly.  “I can’t take that with me.  We would be robbed blind, or lose it all along the way.”  He heard some snickering behind him, but held his gaze firm.  Rachel’s lips twitched a little, in humour or anger he couldn’t tell, but she nodded, and gestured to two of the dwarves, who brought forward two of the smaller chests.

 

“Take these, at least, as a token of our thanks.”  She gestured to either side of her, where Blaine and Jean Baptiste stood, and both of them bowed their heads.  Kurt sighed slightly, but he nodded his head in acceptance and the dwarves strapped the chests to one of the pack ponies, making sure they were secured properly before departing, leaving the traveling company with their leaders, who each stepped forward to bid farewell to their people.  The elves in the company were to be traveling with them as far as Rivendell, while the handful of men were heading to wander the West in the hopes of finding... somebody, Kurt hadn’t quite caught who.  And the dwarves were headed to the Blue Mountains, leaving Kurt in the Shire along the way.  It was hard for him to imagine that they would be able to make their previous journey in reverse without encountering the many dangers they had been challenged with on the way there, but all of the others seemed certain that they would be fine.  He had to trust them, especially Tina and Puck, who were in charge of the expedition.

 

Just as they were preparing to mount their ponies and horses, there was a commotion at the gates, and they turned to see that the remaining dwarves of the Company had all gathered, and they were waving at Kurt.  He quickly pulled his foot out of the stirrup and ran over them, only to be swept up in their arms, passed from dwarf to dwarf for a warm hug and a few words of farewell, finally being placed down by Artie, who pulled away to wipe away a few tears.

 

“Good-bye and good luck, wherever you are!” Mercedes told him finally, wiping away a tear of her own. “If you ever visit us again, when our halls are remade, then we will put on a splendid feast!”  Behind her, Rachel nodded in agreement.

 

“If ever you are passing my way,” Kurt replied, “don’t wait to knock! Tea is at four; but any of you are welcome at any time!”  They all laughed and waved as he turned back to his pony, lifting himself into the saddle with relative ease, then turned back to them, waving his own farewell.  Tina whistled loudly and waved one hand, a signal that had the remainder of the group riding out.  Kurt followed them, tailed only by William, who had elected to travel with them as far as he chose.  When they reached the path, Kurt couldn’t help but pull his pony to a halt, turning back for one last long look at his friends, waving at them for so long that William finally had to chivvy him along, then riding off with their song of farewell ringing in his ears.  Still, that was an image he kept with himself for the rest of his life, even when it could have been supplanted by the memories he made when each of his friends came to visit him, bringing with them new tales and songs for him to record in his books.


	15. Fan-Mix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This fantastic mix was done by scarletjedi. The download link is at the bottom.

 

 

 

**[To download, please click here.](https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B1g5d6Y5ydheY3N1cm5nRTdOVU0/view) **


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